


Crying for the Moon

by mistleto3



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Angst, CW: Death, Drama, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mikototsu Week 2016, Side Chiho/Sakura, Slow Burn, cw: homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-09-09 02:39:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 46,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8872534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistleto3/pseuds/mistleto3
Summary: Mikototsu Werewolf AU





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Tags, content warnings, and characters will be updated as the fic progresses. 
> 
> I've written a large amount of this fic in advance, so I'm hoping to post chapters every 3 days until the entire thing is up. A rough posting schedule can be found [here](http://mistleto-3.tumblr.com/cftm).
> 
> For [Mikototsu Week 2016](http://mikototsuism.tumblr.com/post/153827312248/welcome-to-mikototsu-week-2016-holiday), day 10: Alternate Universe
> 
> Edit: Please check out [this lovely fanart](http://espyraeh.tumblr.com/post/155095825007/morning-light-im-very-excited-for) by tumblr user espyraeh/AO3 user Nimtheriel based on chapter 3!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter can also be found on [Tumblr](http://mistleto-3.tumblr.com/post/154567328624/crying-for-the-moon-part-1)

Tatara was the sort of person whose interest came with a countdown timer- two weeks, maximum. His constant restlessness had made him the type who knew and was acquaintances with everyone, but who nobody could really call themselves friends with. He just didn’t stay still long enough for anyone to get to know him on anything more than a superficial level before he lost interest and flitted away again. It wasn’t just friendships either; he never had a favourite song or food or colour for more than two weeks, never had a crush for more than two weeks, never had a hobby for more than two weeks, et cetera, et cetera.

So it was astounding to him when nearly three weeks had passed and he was _still_ fixated on the redhead in the year above him.

_Suoh Mikoto._

There was just something different about him that Tatara couldn’t put his finger on; he defied every expectation Tatara would normally have about someone like him. He had almost as few friends as Tatara, despite being very classically attractive. He was tall and athletically built, but wasn’t on any of the school’s sports teams. He had a traditional “bad boy” look about him- he rode to school on a motorcycle; he would show up to class with inexplicable bruises and scrapes every so often; he never quite followed the dress code; he played truant on a regular basis, and his facial expression was always a sort of intimidating deadpan, but despite his sort of rebellious allure, he’d never had a girlfriend. But his most striking feature was the sort of anti-gravity to him. His presence commanded respect, the way a nobleman or someone of high political office would, but instead of drawing people towards him, the aura he radiated seemed to ward people away, despite the fact he’d never done anything (that anyone knew of) that gave his peers reason to fear him. He was just sort of… distant.

Not in the same way that Tatara was, though. Tatara was distant the way a wild rabbit might be- sweet and harmless, but flighty if anyone strayed too near. Whereas Mikoto was distant the way a wolf was- he was unapproachable, intimidating, and even somewhat feral. Everybody knew his name, and everybody knew the whispers that circulated regularly about him. For a few weeks, the talk was that he was the son of a dangerous Yakuza boss. After that, it was that he was in the Yakuza himself. He was a criminal, he was a thug-for-hire, he was a thief, he was a murderer. Every few weeks, the rumours got more fantastic and less credible, but people seemed to like to believe them nonetheless.

Perhaps this was why Tatara was so interested in Mikoto- because for everything he’d heard about him, nothing had brought him anywhere near the truth. The aura that emanated from Mikoto that seemed to repel everyone else only drew Tatara nearer, inexorably.

By week four, it had gotten to the point where Tatara was actively trying to find something new to obsess over to distract him from this captivating man. It was downright disconcerting for him to be interested in someone this deeply for this long; his hobbies and his crushes tended to merely occupy him for a fortnight before something else came along, but this one _consumed_ him. Every time he saw Mikoto, his heart fluttered in his chest and his mouth went dry. He dreamed about him, _day_ dreamed about him, he found himself craving his attention. It was almost embarrassing. He felt like a tweenaged girl obsessed with the lead singer of her favourite boyband, and things were getting worse by the day.

At the month mark, Tatara decided something had to be done. He would talk to Mikoto, prove to himself that the man wasn’t everything he was making him out to be, and he’d be able to move on with his life. It seemed fool proof.

The problem was how to go about doing that, exactly. Mikoto was elusive, and it was difficult to pin him down long enough to say hello, let alone have a conversation with him. He was in the year above Tatara, so they weren’t in any of the same classes either. It took Tatara another week of failed schemes before fate took pity on him and gave him a helping hand.

Though, whether it really _was_ a helping hand depends on your definition of what a helping hand is.

The pavements either side of the road that led to his father’s house were narrow, just over a foot between the kerb and the fence, and the road was ill-lit- a country lane, travelled on foot only by dog walkers and the people who lived in the remote houses it gave access to. Tatara had his earphones in as he walked home from school as usual, and didn’t hear the woman behind him, running towards him and calling out frantically…

His world jolted suddenly as a wolf bowled past him, knocking him off his feet and sending him tumbling into the road. As he fell, he caught sight of a flash of silver fur, glinting in the headlights of an oncoming vehicle.

Tatara just about had time to feel a little bit forlorn that he was going to die so young, and then the asphalt bit into his cheek. He could do nothing but watch the headlight grow brighter, a single, blinding spotlight, rushing towards him.

The motorcyclist only just had time to avoid Tatara, veering into the oncoming lane to speed around him then slamming on their breaks.

Tatara was dazed for a moment, partly by the knock he’d taken to the head, and partly because he was frantically trying to process everything that’d happened in the space of two seconds. The throbbing pain in his temple confirmed that he was indeed, still alive, which was his main priority, but aside from that he was completely disoriented.

After a few seconds, a wet snuffling in his ear brought him back to himself, and he looked up to face the snout of the wolf, who was in fact, not a wolf at all, but a dog- a husky, whose legs were still long and gangly, suggesting she was in the final phase of puppyhood. Not sure what else to do, he reached up to run his fingers through the soft fur of her shoulder as she licked his uninjured cheek.

“I’m so sorry, oh my God…” the dog’s owner sprinted over, clipping a lead to her dog’s harness while the animal was inspecting the fallen boy to prevent her from escaping again. “Are you okay?”

“I think so…” He sat up slowly, but his vision spun as he did so. He closed his eyes and shook his head to clear it, and when he opened them again, he saw a pair of faceless dark figures walking towards him. His heart squeezed anxiously in his chest as the figure merged into one, just in time for it to crouch in front of him…

Now that he was a little closer, Tatara felt a twinge of embarrassment as he realised the figure wasn’t the Reaper, but a man in a black motorcycle helmet. The man scooped Tatara up into his arms and carried him back onto the pavement, as easily as if he would a child, then lay him down on the tarmac as though he was afraid Tatara might fall back into the road if he was standing up. It was only once Tatara was safely off the street that the man removed his headgear.

_Mikoto…_

It took him a moment to realise he’d actually said that aloud, rather than in his head as he’d intended.

“You two know each other?” the woman asked, glancing between them.

“We go to the same school,” Tatara explained, and Mikoto nodded in agreement.

The woman nodded, then returned her gaze to the boy lying on the ground. “Are you sure you’re okay? Do you need me to call you an ambulance?”

“It’s fine, it’s fine, there’s no need to go to that sort of trouble. I was just shaken around a bit, I’ll be fine once I’ve had a glass of water and a sleep.”

“Well, if you’re sure… My dear, I’m so sorry… is there anything at all I can do to repay you?”

“Nonsense. Nobody got hurt, everything turned out fine in the end. No harm no foul. Don’t worry about it.” He dismissed her concerns with a wave of his hand.

“If you say so…”

“Definitely. I’ll be fine once I get home.”

“How far away is that?”

“Oh, not far.” He told her the name of the street he lived on, and her jaw dropped open.

“’Not far’?!” That’s almost three miles away. It’ll take you, what, three-quarters of an hour to walk all that way? Let me at least give you some money to get a cab. If you’ve hit your head, you shouldn’t be walking that far alone.”

Mikoto, who hadn’t said a word as of yet, finally piped up: “I can drive him.”

“Are you sure?” It was Tatara asking that now. “You don’t need to go out of your way for me.”

“’S fine.”

“Bless you, dear,” the lady said to him, and he merely gave a brief nod, before holding out his hand to Tatara, who took it gratefully. Mikoto pulled him to his feet, though the speed of the sudden change of orientation sent fresh ripples through Tatara’s field of vision. Mikoto kept a firm grip of his hand until he stopped swaying, in case he fell into the road again.

“Thank you…” Tatara said quietly, feeling his cheeks warm as his gaze flickered down from Mikoto’s face to where his gloved hand clutched his own, his palms so much bigger than Tatara’s that they almost swallowed up his entire fist. He felt his throat close; he’d been struggling to come up with a way just to say hello to his upperclassman, and now they were almost holding hands.

“You steady now?” Mikoto asked, and Tatara nodded slowly, feeling something in his chest deflate slightly when Mikoto’s hand released his own.

“Thanks for your help,” Tatara said with a polite smile, turning towards the woman once more. “Your dog is adorable, by the way.” He gave the animal a scratch behind the ears, as though it hadn’t almost killed him not two minutes ago, then followed Mikoto towards the motorcycle.

“I don’t have a spare helmet. Don’t usually have passengers.”

“That’s okay; it’s not far. I don’t mi-… Oh.” Tatara stared in brief confusion as Mikoto offered his helmet to him. “I wouldn’t want to deprive you of your…”

“If either of us is going to fall off, it’s not going to be me,” Mikoto pointed out, and Tatara chewed his lip. Mikoto was right- Tatara had never ridden a motorcycle before in his life, and on top of that, he’d just taken a knock to the head. It seemed there would be no arguing with him. Against his instinct to avoid inconveniencing anyone at any cost, Tatara took the helmet and put it on, and as he did so, Mikoto mounted the vehicle. Once the helmet was fastened securely onto his head (though it was a little big for him) Tatara climbed tentatively on behind him, and he was immediately aware of just how close two people had to be in order to share a motorcycle. His entire torso was pressed to Mikoto’s back; there was so little space between them that Tatara could _smell_ him- a pleasant musk of soap and cologne and leather and cigarette smoke. He found himself almost grateful for his near-death experience.

“Put your arms around my waist.”

He was _definitely_ grateful for the near-death experience.

Obediently, he wrapped his arms tightly around Mikoto, pressing himself, if possible, even closer to his body.

Admittedly, Tatara was at least a little bit that way inclined. He definitely enjoyed kissing men at parties and the like, but he’d never had what he would call a “proper crush” on another man before, or anyone really- his affections were usually so fleeting that they never developed into anything more substantial than “interest,” let alone any kind of meaningful romantic or sexual desire. Though, he certainly wouldn’t have denied finding men aesthetically pleasing, and as such, couldn’t help but be appreciative of the opportunity to sit so close to someone as objectively handsome as Mikoto.

But his gratitude wasn’t really for the opportunity to share a motorcycle with an attractive upperclassman- it was more a matter of _relief._ He wasn’t used to being this caught up over _anything_ for this long, and this felt like closure; he’d spent almost three times the normal lifespan of his periods of “interest” obsessing over Mikoto, being yanked this way and that by his gravity, and he’d finally gotten close enough to get his fix. And if he got to share the personal space of a rather handsome man in the process, well, Tatara wasn’t complaining.

 “Hold on tight,” Mikoto mumbled, and Tatara complied unquestioningly, fisting his hands in the leather of Mikoto’s jacket. He felt Mikoto’s arms clamp down on his own, trapping his elbows against his waist so he wouldn’t fall, and the engine snarled into life beneath them.

The ride home seemed somewhat surreal; the world looked odd, blurring through the visor of a crash helmet, and it only became odder still when they went around a corner and the lean of the bike had Tatara seeing double again. The rushing of the wind past his body made a strange contrast to the warmth and solidity of Mikoto’s torso against his own. It almost felt like a dream.

By the time they pulled up outside Tatara’s home, he felt a little nauseous, but at the same time he didn’t want the ride to end.

The rumbling of the engine died as Mikoto flipped the kickstand down. Somewhat ungracefully, Tatara dismounted the bike, and was prevented from stumbling once more by Mikoto’s quick reflexes; his firm grip on his elbow was the only thing that kept Tatara on his feet.

“You okay?”

Tatara took a moment to steady himself, then nodded, removing the helmet in the hopes that removing the obstruction to his vision might ease some of the dizziness. Mikoto took it off him, then dismounted the bike himself.

“Is someone home to take care of you?”

“I think my dad is home.”

“You think?” Mikoto raised an eyebrow.

“He’s a bit of a technophobe- doesn’t answer his phone a lot, so I can’t be sure.” The second part of that sentence had been the truth, though he couldn’t say the same about the first half.

Mikoto nodded. “As long as you don’t die in the night or anything,” he said with a shrug.

“Do you mind if I get your number? Just in case I _do_ feel a dying spell coming on?” Tatara sounded collected, but really, he’d blurted out the question in the knowledge that, if he stopped to think about what he wanted to say, he’d never have had the courage to spit the words out.  

Mikoto blinked, seemingly in surprise, but it was difficult to tell by his lack of any other expression, then replied: “Sure.”

Tatara couldn’t quite believe that had worked, but he wasn’t about to complain. They quickly exchanged numbers (Tatara was quite flattered that Mikoto entered his name into his phone without having to ask what it was) before saying their goodbyes.

“See you tomorrow,” Tatara called as he headed towards his front door, fumbling in his pocket for his keys.

Mikoto nodded in agreement, then donned his helmet once more and remounted his motorcycle, but didn’t drive away until he’d seen that Tatara was safely inside the house.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter can also be found on [Tumblr.](http://mistleto-3.tumblr.com/post/154720669504/crying-for-the-moon-part-2)

The next morning, it was like the dam that had stopped Tatara summoning the words to talk to Mikoto had finally cracked, he had no trouble at all saying good morning to him when they passed each other in the schoolyard.

Mikoto seemed somewhat surprised by the cheery greeting, but returned a gruff “hello” all the same.

“Did you get home alright last night?” Tatara asked, quickly changing trajectory to tag alongside his upperclassman.

“Yeah, fine.”

Mikoto had been walking with another boy in his year, a tall, lanky young man with sandy coloured hair and tinted glasses. His friend raised an eyebrow at Mikoto, as though to ask who the chirpy boy with the nasty looking graze on his face was, why he seemed to know Mikoto, and what exactly they were doing together the night before.

Tatara peaked around Mikoto to offer his friend a smile. “Sorry, I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Totsuka Tatara, I’m a second year. I fell into the road on the way home last night and almost got hit by Mikoto’s motorcycle.”

“Seriously?” By the astonished look on his face, it was clear that was the last thing he expected to hear, and the way Tatara spoke of the incident in such a cheery tone made his brow furrow in concern. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Hit my head a little, but Mikoto made sure I got home okay,” Tatara said with an easy smile.

The blond man blinked in disbelief as he processed the story, then shook his head as though to decide it wasn’t worth pursuing it any further. “I’m Kusanagi Izumo, Mikoto’s classmate.” As he spoke, Tatara could see him examining the wound on his cheek.

“Nice to meet you~,” Tatara replied politely, then launched into chattering away with the pair (or rather, chattering at them). Izumo seemed slightly bemused by his friendliness, but it seemed he’d decided Tatara wasn’t doing any harm, so he went along with the conversation. Though, he did give Mikoto a few sidelong glances, as though to ask how on earth he’d ended up in this predicament.

When Tatara parted ways from the pair to head to class, he berated himself internally for a moment; he’d hoped that finally having a chance to interact with Mikoto would give him the fix he’d been craving and he’d be able to move on with his life, but it had only fed his fascination with him. He found himself dwelling on their interactions all day, and the harder he tried not to think about him, the more difficult it became to get him out of his mind.

Once again, he dreamed about Mikoto that night, but this time he’d been able to recall the warmth of his body and the smell of his skin- admittedly, he felt like a bit of a creeper for it, but he tried to reason with himself that what he dreamed about wasn’t exactly within his control.

The only comfort he could take in the way the situation had turned out was that at least now he wouldn’t be pining after Mikoto; it seemed he’d been cautiously accepted into his small friendship group, so perhaps now he could have his two weeks of interest and then drift away into his next fascination. Except this time, he wasn’t sure he wanted it to end.

 

Tatara trailed after Mikoto like a shadow for the next few days, which eventually evolved into a few _weeks,_ breezing past the usual fortnight mark, and still his interest in Mikoto never waned _._ Part of him was frustrated by this, but he also couldn’t help but be somewhat relieved- he didn’t think it’d feel right to go back to how things normally were after an obsession like this. He didn’t think his usual interests could ever really compare, and sticking with something for this long gave him a sense of fulfilment he’d never really experienced before. So, cautiously, he allowed their friendship to continue.  

Initially, Mikoto found Tatara’s presence somewhat disconcerting; he was used to having people wary of him, to them giving him a wide berth, but Tatara wasn’t bothered by the aura he gave off in the slightest. Indeed, Tatara’s seeming imperviousness to the intimidation that most people (understandably) felt when they spent too long in Mikoto’s presence had almost begun to make him worry about the boy. Not that he ever _hadn’t_ been worried- they’d met when Mikoto almost killed him with a motorcycle for crying out loud- but the longer Tatara stuck around, as sunny as he always was despite the ever-present gloom that most people seemed to think clung to Mikoto, the more Mikoto began to suspect he wasn’t the brightest crayon in the box. Everyone else understood the throng of metaphorical “keep out” signs stuck at regular intervals around Mikoto, but this kid seemed completely impervious.

The longer it went on, the more concerned he became; there was a good reason he didn’t like to keep too many acquaintances, and as such, his knee-jerk reaction had been to resist the inroads Tatara was trying to make into their friendship group. But Izumo had quickly picked up on his antisocial behaviour and scolded him for it, saying there was no harm in the extra company. When Mikoto had opened his mouth to protest that there was actually quite _significant_ danger of harm, Izumo had shushed him again, telling him that spending the breaks between classes with the kid wouldn’t exactly endanger his life. Mikoto gave in at that point, too lazy to argue any further- Izumo was obviously enjoying having a new friend who was a little more talkative than Mikoto, so he kept quiet about his concerns.

But even Mikoto had to admit (to himself- he’d never say this out loud) that it was sort of nice having someone around who exuded optimism the way Tatara did; his cheerfulness seemed to rub off on anyone he spent time with, and even Mikoto was no exception. He’d always been the type to adopt a bluntly realistic approach- it wasn’t that he was actively pessimistic, he just didn’t see any merit in false hope. But now, even he felt the first tendrils of optimism creeping into his worldview, as hard as he tried to fight them. It was almost irritating how happy this kid was, especially when there didn’t seem to be any apparent reason for it.

Though, it wasn’t as though he _disliked_ having the new companion, but at the same time, if Mikoto was completely honest the boy sort of set him on edge. Tatara’s unnatural cheerfulness was one thing, but worse was how exceptional he seemed at reading people. He picked up on the slightest hints betrayed by Mikoto’s body language; he seemed to understand Mikoto better than even Izumo did, and they’d known each other since before either of them were old enough to talk. It was a bit disconcerting to have someone around who seemed to understand what Mikoto was thinking better than he did himself.

Which, of course, meant Tatara was very quick to catch onto things Mikoto didn’t want him catching onto, namely his habit of playing truant on a fairly regular basis. Roughly every four weeks or so, Mikoto would be conspicuously absent from class for a few days, and Tatara was beginning to worry about him, starting to ask questions, when all Mikoto wanted was for him to leave well enough alone. But unfortunately, he seemed like the kind of kid who, once his interest in something had been piqued, was very difficult to distract.

 

It was Wednesday, about four months after Tatara had fallen into the road in front of Mikoto’s bike, and Mikoto hadn’t attended school yet that week.

“Is Mikoto okay? I feel like I haven’t seen him in ages,” Tatara mumbled, picking at the contents of his lunch box with little enthusiasm.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Izumo replied, seeming less than worried. Another bonus of having Tatara around was that Izumo wasn’t left by himself when Mikoto was absent.

“He seems to get sick a lot…”

“He gets migraines; I guess he’s just been having attacks fairly regularly recently.”

Tatara nodded slowly, but he didn’t seem entirely convinced, staring into the Tupperware box on his knee with a pensive pout.

“…Totsuka?”

He looked up at Izumo, chewing his lip. “Is it _really_ migraines? If it’s something else I won’t judge or anything, like, if he’s got some chronic illness or something, he can tell me, and I’m always around if he needs anything. He knows that, right?”

“Of course he does.”

“…Do you mind if I ask something about Mikoto? It’s probably a really stupid question, and obviously you can tell me off if it is, or just tell me to shut up…”

Izumo interrupted his babbling. “Go on?”

“…Is he in a gang?”

Izumo blinked in surprise. “Why on earth would you think that?”

“He’s got quite a bit of money for a kid his age, especially a kid living on his own, and he keeps vanishing mysteriously, and when he shows up at school again, he’s always covered in bruises and scratches, and there are always rumours going around about him being involved in dirty dealings... I’m worried about him. I don’t want him to get caught up in anything he can’t get out of.”

“No, no, it’s nothing like that. He just gets migraine attacks pretty regularly, especially because he’s terrible at taking his medication,” Izumo replied, comforting him with a wave of his hand. “And as for the bruises, he tosses and turns in his sleep is all. We used to have sleepovers when we were kids a lot, and if ever we had to top and tail he’d always kick me the whole way through the night. He always used to wake up black and blue from knocking his legs against the wall the whole night. Ya don’t need to worry about him; he’s a tough cookie.”

Tatara nodded, seeming a little embarrassed about being so off the mark, though there was still a look in his eye that suggested he wasn’t totally convinced by Izumo’s explanation.

“Sorry, that was a stupid question… Is there anything I can do for him while he’s sick?”

Izumo chuckled quietly, seeming to find his reaction endearing. “It’s alright. Mikoto isn’t the type to like people fussing over him, so he prefers just to be left alone until he feels better. Besides, I live right next door to him, so I’m closer than you are if there’s anything he needs. Just give him a couple days, he’ll come back to class soon.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter can also be found on [Tumblr.](http://mistleto-3.tumblr.com/post/154854516789/crying-for-the-moon-part-3)

Surely enough, Mikoto was back in class the next day, extinguishing Tatara’s concern for the time being, but it returned in full force when, almost exactly a month later, Izumo once again walked through the school’s front gates alone.

Tatara didn’t say anything about it this time, beyond a quick inquiry as to whether Mikoto was okay, but after that he let the subject lie. He hadn’t been entirely convinced by the reliability of Izumo’s migraine story a month ago, and yet another repeat of Mikoto’s regular absences made it seem even less credible now. Not that Tatara had any other reasonable theories as to what was _actually_ wrong with him, but he decided that one way or another, he was going to find out. It wasn’t even out of any sense of selfish curiosity that his need to uncover the truth stemmed from; he was just tired of feeling helpless when his friend was sick so often and he couldn’t even be sure what was wrong with him.

Throughout the school day, he formulated a plan; he was determined to do something for Mikoto, even if it was just checking in for five minutes to offer his assistance, and then leaving if he wasn’t wanted. Tatara didn’t tell Izumo of his ideas though, knowing his friend would just try and talk him out of it, so he did his best to act as though nothing was amiss for the rest of the day before making a detour to the store on the way home.

Once he got back to his house, he set the flowers he’d bought in a jug of water (he wasn’t entirely sure what had possessed him to buy Mikoto flowers- he didn’t seem like a flowery sort of person; it was just something he thought people did for someone who was sick) and set about making a pot of mushroom soup. Half an hour later, satisfied with his handiwork, he poured the soup into a flask, then placed both it and the bunch of flowers in the basket on the front of his bike and set off towards Mikoto’s house, the cold air rushing past Tatara’s face as he rode to down the hill stinging his eyes as he went.

Winter was drawing in, so twilight had already settled over the woods behind Mikoto’s house by the time Tatara dismounted his bicycle, but even though the last rays of the sun were beginning to sink past the horizon, it wasn’t quite as dark as Tatara had expected; it was a clear night, and the light of the rising full moon bleached the treetops silver. The beads of dew on the pine needles had frozen into glittering frost in the late autumn chill, and the last glimmers of sunset seemed to shatter off the ice.

When Tatara knocked on the door, there was no answer. He supposed Mikoto was probably sleeping- rest is important when you’re sick- so he didn’t ring the doorbell, not wanting to wake him if that was the case. A quick ferret around the front porch revealed a spare key hidden beneath an empty plant pot, and Tatara let himself in.

“Mikoto?” he called softly, padding into the kitchen to put the flowers in a jug of water and set the flask of soup on the kitchen counter. He’d known this was Mikoto’s house because it had been pointed out to him when the three of them had spent an evening after school at Izumo’s house next door, but he’d never actually been inside. All Tatara knew about the place was that Mikoto lived there alone as he had no known living relatives, and Izumo’s uncle kept an eye on him. The house was small- a bungalow with only two bedrooms, but despite looking a little run down from the outside, the interior was quite pleasant. The decoration was a little outdated, but the furniture was all evidently expensive and every room was full of creature comforts- it looked more like a house that an old retired couple would live in than the home of a teenager. The place was tidier than Tatara had expected, too.

“You home?” Tatara called out once more, wandering the house in search of his friend. It was almost too quiet for anyone to be home- but if Mikoto was too sick to make it to school, surely he wouldn’t have gone out? The more Tatara walked around, the more the place felt eerie, as though something was out of place but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was. The silence was beginning to make him uncomfortable- there wasn’t even the quiet buzz of a television or a radio anywhere in the background, and all the curtains were drawn and all the lights had been out when Tatara arrived.

The short corridor at the back of the building had three doors, two of which were open- one leading to a bathroom, and the other an empty bedroom that almost didn’t look like it was lived in; there were no personal effects in sight, and the bed was neatly made, as though it was never slept in. The final door was closed, and the key was in the lock.

_Locked in from the outside…?_

Tatara’s feeling of foreboding intensified, but it still didn’t quite override his concern for his friend. Taking a deep breath, he twisted the key and pushed the door open, revealing a darkened room that seemed a little more lived-in than the rest of the house. There were books open on the desk, Mikoto’s schoolbag on the ground in the corner, an empty glass on the bedside table, half a sleeve hanging out of the washing basket… and Mikoto’s silhouette, lying on his side on top of the covers on his bed, was picked out by the thin strip of moonlight filtering in from between the curtains. His eyes were open, but he appeared to be staring into space, and he hadn’t seemed to have noticed Tatara enter. His skin was mostly bare, except for his boxers, and Tatara would have felt embarrassed if it wasn’t for the almost haunted look on Mikoto’s face; his expression was eerily blank, the kind of look you might see on the face of someone who’d just received sudden bad news.

“Mikoto…?” Tatara said softly.

Mikoto’s gaze snapped up to fix on Tatara, and his eyes widened. With a quick, jerky movement, he rolled onto his stomach to stare at him in disbelief and what looked like panic. Tatara supposed he might have startled him.

“I’m sorry to intrude, I was just worried, you’ve been sick a lot recently, so I brought you some soup and I just want you to know that if you need anything, I’m just a phone call awa-…”

“Get out.” The tendons in Mikoto’s neck stood taut beneath his skin as he hissed the word. His back arched forwards a little, and his legs twitched, as though he wanted to curl up into a foetal position, and there was a look of almost… terror in his eyes.

“Mikoto…? What’s wrong?” As he spoke, he took a step forward, and Mikoto flinched.

“Don’t come any closer. You’ll get hurt.” It sounded like he had to force the words out. There was a sheen of sweat on his forehead, and his limbs had begun to shake. Whatever this was, it definitely wasn’t a migraine; Mikoto seemed almost delirious with fever, but the way he was warning Tatara away… it didn’t sound like he was just trying to stop Tatara catching his illness. There was an urgency in his tone that implied a much deeper threat.

When Tatara didn’t move, Mikoto spoke again: “You need to _get out_ of here, now. Go home. _Please._ ” His voice was quiet, but low with threat, and it wavered and almost broke on the last word. He was _begging_.

Tatara had never seen him like this before. His whole body was trembling now, and his gaze flickered agitatedly from Tatara’s face to the clock on his bedside table; the glowing numbers were the only source of light in the room, other than the bar of moonlight streaming in through the window. Tatara was frozen in the doorway; he couldn’t bring himself to leave Mikoto in this state, not when he didn’t even know what was happening.

Suddenly, Mikoto let out a feral-sounding cry of anguish, and his back arched as his body contorted. With a lurching movement, he threw himself out of bed, as though wanting to force Tatara out of the room, but he’d barely taken two steps before collapsing onto the ground in another convulsion. A low grunt rumbled in his lungs, and then another, this one closer to a growl. Tatara almost feared he was having a seizure.

“Mikoto…” Tatara could do nothing but stare in shock at the way his friend’s body twisted on the ground, and then in an instant… he wasn’t recognisable as his friend any more. His limbs lengthened and his face distorted, almost as though his flesh was _melting_ , but it was difficult to see what was happening through the way he was writhing in apparent agony, his muscles pulled taut and trembling until the thick fur that sprouted from his skin obscured them and then…

The wolf lay still for a moment, catching its breath, before it got shakily to its feet. It was _immense;_ its shoulder was level with Tatara’s waist, and the thickness of its shaggy, rust-coloured pelt only made it seem bigger. Its paws were the size of Tatara’s hands, and when it bared its gleaming teeth, the longest of its fangs looked as though it could have punched straight through his arm. A snarl rumbled in its throat, low enough to shake the air in Tatara’s lungs, but he stood his ground. After all, the creature still had Mikoto’s eyes.

“Mikoto…?”

The wolf growled again, but the sound wasn’t aggressive; his ears were pinned back against his head, and he was stood stiff in place with his tail curled between his hind legs. Tatara quickly realised that what he was seeing was _fear._ The growl wasn’t a threat; it was a warning. Even without his voice, he was still urging Tatara to run, to get somewhere safe.

“Are you scared of hurting me?” Tatara asked softly, and he watched the creature’s great shaggy head tilt downwards in a nod. The response emboldened him- Mikoto, or at least a form of him who understood what Tatara was saying, was still in there.

He took a small step forward, then another, holding out his hand. “And you still understand me, still know who I am?”

Another nod.

“Well, I’m not afraid of you.” It was only as Tatara spoke that he realised that was true. He had been afraid, watching his friend writhe in agony on the ground, but he’d been afraid for Mikoto, not for himself. And when the wolf got to its feet before him, he’d been shocked, but not _scared_. He could never fear his friend. “I won’t get hurt,” he said confidently, dropping into a crouch so their eyes were on the same level, and slowly reached out to run his fingers through the fur on his neck. It was softer than he’d expected.

Mikoto’s eyes narrowed in what looked like disbelief at the declaration, and his head tilted ever so slightly.

“I know you’d never hurt me. I trust you. Why should now be any different? You’re still the same person.”

Mikoto almost looked incredulous, as though pointing out that there was one very good reason as to why things would be different now.

“If you’d transformed and then lost yourself, yeah, I would be scared. But you still understand me, and you’re still you in there, so why would I worry?” Tatara’s tone was far too light-hearted for the circumstance, and he was still absentmindedly stroking Mikoto’s neck- the contact seemed to be reassuring to him.

When Mikoto paused for a moment, Tatara tilted his head. “…Do you usually lose yourself when this happens?”

Mikoto nodded.

“Ah, I see. I’m sorry. Well… I’m sure if it hasn’t happened yet, it’s probably not going to.” There was no possible way he could have been sure of that, but he believed it nonetheless.

Mikoto huffed a sigh at Tatara’s relentless optimism, shaking his head.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. Everything will be fine somehow,” he said with a smile, then added “…I brought you some soup, if you’re hungry.”

Tatara had never seen a dog roll its eyes before, but he could have sworn that was what Mikoto did, but he consented with a nod, and allowed Tatara to lead him out of the room.

It was somewhat surreal, walking through Mikoto’s house with an immense red wolf trailing behind him, but Tatara decided he was just going to roll with the punches on this one, and he could process how strange and impossible the scenario was later. For now, he occupied himself by rewarming the soup and pouring it into a bowl.

“Do you want me to just put it down in front of you or…?”

Mikoto nosed the tiles in front of him as though to agree that yes, that seemed like the easiest way of doing it.

“Isn’t it kind of humiliating, being fed like a dog?”

Mikoto shot Tatara a faintly ridiculing look, as though to inform him that, in that moment of time, Mikoto was indeed a dog, and Tatara shrugged.

“Fair enough.” He placed the dish on the ground, perching on the edge of the kitchen counter as he watched him eat.

Once Mikoto had finished the soup, Tatara took the bowl away and rinsed it out. As he set the dish on the drying rack, he heard Mikoto make a gruff noise in his throat, and he turned around to face him.

When he’d got Tatara’s attention, Mikoto pointed his muzzle in the direction of the vase on the counter.

“Ah, yeah, I brought those… I thought you were sick, and that’s what you do for people when they’re sick, right? Bring them flowers?”

Mikoto rolled his eyes again, making a quiet sound that almost sounded like a laugh.

“Do you want me to stay here tonight?”

Another nod.

“That’s fine.”

Mikoto turned around, gesturing with a shake of his head for Tatara to follow him, then padded back into towards his bedroom, hopping up onto the mattress and curling up on top of the blankets. Tatara sat down beside him, leaning against his side with a contented sigh.

“I think I prefer you like this, you know,” he joked.

Mikoto tilted his head.

“Well, you don’t exactly say much in your human form, so it’s not like I’m missing out on any conversation. But your fur is soft and you make a pretty comfy pillow. Plus, you’re cuter like this.”

Mikoto hit him with his tail, and Tatara giggled.

“I’m just being honest!” He protested. “This explains a lot, though. I couldn’t figure out why you were absent so much; Izumo just said you had migraines, but who gets migraine attacks every month like clockwork? I had all these theories… some of them are a bit more embarrassing than others.”

He received an expectant look, as though he was being asked: _Go on then?_

“Well… I wondered if maybe you were transgender and off with period pains or something… and I might have asked Izumo if you were in a gang…”

Mikoto snorted.

Tatara chuckled bashfully, rubbing the back of his head. “I’m not a very good detective. There have always been rumours going around at school about you being the son of a Yakuza member or whatever, and you always used to show up with all these bruises and scrapes, like you’d been in a fight. In my defence, I never would have figured out that you were a _werewolf._ I thought they were just something out of kids’ stories.”

Mikoto nodded, acknowledging that he couldn’t exactly be expected to figure that out.

“I take it Izumo knows about all this, then?”

Another nod.

“Was it him who locked you in your room from the outside?”

Another nod.

“And I take it he’s the reason the house is so clean, huh? I can’t picture you cleaning.”

Mikoto chuckled quietly, and once again inclined his head.

“Well, now I know about all this, I want to make sure you know that if you ever need anything, I’m here for you. Just say the word and I’ll come over, okay? Or like… howl or something.”

Mikoto huffed, as though to resist Tatara’s fuss, but he rested his head on his knee gratefully. He seemed a little downtrodden, but Tatara supposed it was understandable- he wouldn’t be particularly happy either if he morphed into an animal’s body against his will, so he made it his mission to keep Mikoto’s mind off it. Immediately, he launched into a tirade of chatter, babbling away about anything and everything as he ran his fingers through the soft fur beneath him, and Mikoto listened to him attentively. It didn’t take long for Tatara to understand Mikoto perfectly- even without the power of speech, his facial expressions and the quiet huffs of exasperation and even laughter got his emotions across just as well- it was like Tatara had said earlier: it wasn’t like Mikoto spoke all that much in his human form anyway.

Tatara soon lost track of the time passing- he was content simply to enjoy Mikoto’s company, but as the night drew on, it became more and more difficult to keep his eyes open, especially when he was laying against an immense furry blanket, listening to Mikoto’s rhythmic breathing and soaking in the comforting warmth radiating from his body…

He vaguely remembered struggling to keep his chit-chat coherent, and the wash of relief he felt when he realised Mikoto’s eyes were closed and the movement of his ribcage had slowed, accompanied by a twinge of endearment at the sight of him sleeping, and then his tiredness claimed him and he nodded off with his head resting on Mikoto’s shoulder.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter can also be found on [Tumblr.](http://mistleto-3.tumblr.com/post/154980124574/crying-for-the-moon-part-4)

The next thing Tatara knew, his eyes were fluttering open to the sight of the ceiling in Mikoto’s bedroom, with the pale light of morning flooding in through the gap between the curtains. The shape of the body pressed against his own was distinctly human now- Tatara’s back was flush against Mikoto’s abdomen, and he felt his arm draped around his waist. The realisation made his cheeks warm and his pulse pick up; waking up spooning with his best friend was yet another addition to the list of things Tatara hadn’t expected to happen in the last twelve hours. He didn’t move, though; the contact was too nice. Tatara’s body fit snugly against Mikoto’s chest, and the gentle tickle of his breath through Tatara’s hair and the weight of his arm wound around Tatara’s waist and the warmth radiating from his skin was comforting, so he was content to stay put, waiting for Mikoto to wake up.

He didn’t know how much time passed until he finally felt Mikoto stir, but Tatara hadn’t been bored for a second of it; his heart had been racing from the intimacy from the moment he realised exactly how close they were. He tried to reason with himself that it was perfectly normal to be a little nervous in these circumstances- Mikoto was an attractive guy- but his reaction still felt a little too extreme. Then again, this was how things always were with Mikoto though, like they had been that time on the motorcycle all those months ago; his response to Mikoto was always far more intense than it should have been. If it had been anyone else, he would have lost interest in him months ago. But here they were, more than 6 months after Mikoto had first caught Tatara’s eye, curled up in bed together, and Tatara actually had butterflies in his stomach. Hell, Tatara had never even known what people meant when they used that expression, but now he felt it, it was unmistakable.

And their fluttering only intensified as Mikoto stretched behind him, letting out a quiet, sleepy groan.

“Mornin’…” he mumbled, then he seemed to pause.

“You okay?” Tatara said quietly.

“Yeah…” Mikoto reached up to rub the sleep out of his eye. “Just not used to waking up with someone in my bed. Well, not used to waking up in my bed after a full moon.” His voice was thick with drowsiness, and it was sort of endearing.

“What do you mean?”

“Usually wake up in the woods near my house somewhere, covered in blood more often than not.” There was an odd tone to his voice, and even though he was evidently trying to sound casual about it, it was clearly difficult for him to talk about.

When Tatara didn’t respond beyond a nod, Mikoto’s voice was slightly incredulous as he pointed out: “Most people would run for the hills at that point.”

_Is that what he was scared of? I wouldn’t want to be friends with him anymore?_

“Most people would have run for the hills when their best friend turned into a wolf right in front of them,” he countered. “You said last night you usually don’t have control of yourself in wolf form, so you can’t exactly be held responsible for what happens.”

“I don’t normally even remember what happened, let alone have any control over it.”

“It’s okay… it’s not your fault. I’m not gonna stop hanging out with you because of that.”

Mikoto nodded, but didn’t say anything, though Tatara felt him relax a little against him.

“It seemed like me being here helped, right?”

“It’s the only thing that was different to all the other times,” Mikoto said with a shrug.

“Then I’ll come over every full moon.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.”

“Of course you can. I couldn’t stand it if you got hurt, and it must weigh on your conscience, not knowing what you did. If I can help, then of course I’ll help.”

Mikoto sighed. “What if it’s not like this next time? If that was a fluke, you could get hurt.”

“If you’re gonna chase after me and try and eat me, just promise to give me a head start, okay?” he said light-heartedly.

“What am I going to do with you?”

“Well, I’m not going anywhere, so you’re just going to have to put up with me.” He rolled over in Mikoto’s arms, having forgotten his anxiety when Mikoto had mentioned the dark spots in his memory; his nerves had seemed so trivial compared to his friend’s well-founded fears about what he’d done on the nights he had no recollection of.

But the jitters came flooding back when he turned to face Mikoto and realised he was naked as the day he was born.

“O-oh, sorry!” Tatara quickly covered his eyes with his hands, feeling his cheeks burning. “I-I didn’t realise…”

Mikoto chuckled at his reaction, evidently unfazed by his exposure. Though Tatara supposed he didn’t exactly seem like the type to be self-conscious about nudity.

“Yeah, clothes tend to tear off when you transform.”

Tatara peered through a gap in his fingers down at the carpet, and surely enough, a scrap of shredded fabric, which had evidently once been a pair of boxer shorts, lay in the middle of the room. He hadn’t noticed them in the dark last night.

“R-right…”

Mikoto ruffled Tatara’s hair, then sat up, disentangling himself from his friend’s embrace as he got to his feet and walked over to the wash basket to pull on some pyjama bottoms, seemingly to conserve Tatara’s embarrassment. As he walked, Tatara noticed a scar on his thigh through his fingers- two jagged pink crescents, raised a little from the rest of the skin.

_A bite? Well, I guess legend says a person becomes a werewolf by getting bitten by one…_

On further inspection, his whole body appeared to be covered in scars- thick, red lines criss-crossed his back and shoulders and blemished his limbs. They almost looked like claw marks, as though Mikoto had been fighting, but Tatara didn’t know what could have caused them- the biggest land predator around these parts were bears, but it was rare to ever see one around, especially so close to a town. Either way, whatever the wounds that created the scars had been caused by, they looked as though they’d been quite vicious, and had received minimal medical attention.

Tatara was snapped out of his train of thought when Mikoto turned around again and noticed his hands still half-covering his face. “We’re both guys here,” Mikoto pointed out.

“T-that’s not really…” Tatara said weakly, then trailed off. 

“Hmm? You uncomfortable or something? Sorry.”

“N-no, that’s not it. Just… in the interest of full disclosure, I’m not exactly heterosexual, so… if you aren’t okay with, you know, being naked in front of me…”

Mikoto merely shrugged. “If you can accept I turn into a monster on a full moon I can deal with you being into guys.”

“Yeah, but you can have no issue with it and still not want to, you know, bare it all in front of me. I wouldn’t take offense.”

“I’ll take you looking as a compliment.”

“You should,” Tatara replied, without thinking, then clapped his hand over his mouth. “I-I didn’t mean that in a weird way or anything! Just, you know, guy to guy, you’re quite handsome.”

Mikoto merely laughed, and it occurred to Tatara that he’d very rarely heard him laugh until now.

“I dunno why you’d think I’d be uncomfortable; I wasn’t wearing clothes for all of last night.”

“It’s not really the same though, is it?” Tatara pointed out. “You had thick fur, and no offense but I’m not into non-humans.”

Mikoto chuckled. “Seriously though, I told ya I woke up more than once covered in blood that wasn’t my own, and you didn’t bat an eyelid. I’m not going to judge you if you wanna look at my ass.”

“How big-headed, Mikoto~. Who says I want to look at your ass?” Tatara teased.

Mikoto smirked in response. “I’m gonna go take a shower.”

“Alright.”

The burning in Tatara’s cheeks didn’t subside until a long while after Mikoto had left the room, and he couldn’t help but berate himself for his reaction. Mikoto was right- there was no need for Tatara to get so embarrassed, and if it had been anyone else, he probably wouldn’t have. But of course, Mikoto was the exception; Mikoto was _always_ the exception…

_…Do I have a crush on him?_

…Suddenly, everything made a mortifying amount of sense. It made sense that his interest in Mikoto had never waned; it made sense that he hadn’t run when Mikoto had morphed into a monster before his eyes; it made sense that he’d blushed like a schoolgirl when he’d realised Mikoto was naked; it made sense that he’d really enjoyed the almost _flirty_ exchange they’d just had…

Because he was completely head over heels for him. The realisation hit him like a truck; it seemed so ridiculously obvious that it was embarrassing he hadn’t figured it out sooner. He’d just never had anything to compare it to; he’d never had a crush before. Hell, he’d never even had a best friend before- he just assumed the reason he cared so much about Mikoto was because they were close platonically. But they’d never really spent any time alone before- Izumo had always been with them, and being alone with Mikoto was different. He was more affectionate, more talkative than usual. He’d said sentences that morning longer than the sum of his words in entire conversations, and Tatara saw him laugh more in the few hours they spent together last night than he had in a month. They’d never had friendly banter like that before, and even when Mikoto hadn’t been able to speak, he’d opened up and revealed more about himself to Tatara in that one night than he’d ever known before.

And he loved it. He loved being the person to see that side of Mikoto as much as he loved being the only one able to calm him when he’d normally lose himself. Not that Tatara had been thinking about it last night- he was more concerned about the fact Mikoto had transformed into a wolf. But that morning, lying in his arms… He felt privileged to have been his anchor to reality, and to be the one waking up beside him, and that feeling of privilege only intensified when he saw Mikoto in higher spirits than usual, seemingly because of him.

The moment Mikoto had pulled away to get dressed, Tatara had instantly craved more of the contact, more of the affection. As much as he’d been embarrassed to see him naked, he’d wanted to keep looking. He’d never felt like that before, not even close, about _anyone._ Sure, he’d found people aesthetically pleasing before, but he’d never felt his heart skip a beat at the sight of bare skin like he had at the sight of Mikoto’s. He’d wanted to make friends with people before, but those feelings weren’t even comparable to what he felt now, lying in Mikoto’s bed, breathing in the smell of his skin clinging to the sheets. He’d kissed people before, but only because it felt nice, not because he’d specifically wanted to kiss one person in particular, the way he wanted to kiss Mikoto just to see what his lips felt like…

He just hadn’t realised it before, but now he’d spent a night alone with him, been wrapped up in his embrace, dozing in his arms for an hour… simple friendship wasn’t enough. He wanted to be special to Mikoto, the way Mikoto was special to him.

And maybe he could have that. If he was really the only person who could keep Mikoto calm on a full moon, surely that meant there was something different about Tatara, something that made him uniquely important to Mikoto. It certainly meant he’d be spending at least one night a month alone with his friend, and the prospect of having that time together made something in his chest feel warm.

For now, he decided, that was enough for him. After all, by the sounds of it, Mikoto needed him- he couldn’t risk ruining that for him by making things awkward and confessing to him. If he could give Mikoto some peace of mind, that was an honour in itself- to be something to Mikoto that nobody else could be. Tatara decided he couldn’t ask for anything more than that.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter can also be found on [Tumblr.](http://mistleto-3.tumblr.com/post/155140380024/crying-for-the-moon-part-5)

Mikoto let out a sigh of relief as he stepped under the hot spray of the shower; his whole body ached from changing shape, but the warm water trickling over his skin helped to ease the soreness. Thankfully, his post-full moon hangover wasn’t quite as badly as normal this time, though he supposed he was usually off doing God-knows what (he presumed hunting, or fighting, but he couldn’t be sure) on full moons, often getting himself a few superficial scrapes and bruises in the process. Needless to say, spending the night curled up his bed was far less strenuous and far less dangerous than whatever it was he usually got up to.

Still, he didn’t get away with it completely pain-free; shapeshifting seemed to put a great strain on his body, so the heat soaking into his muscles was a welcome respite. He wasn’t sure he was happy about being left alone with his thoughts, though. As much as it was a blessing to wake up after a full moon safe in the knowledge he hadn’t killed anyone, he’d still been left with a lot to mull over. Yes, he was grateful that there was a chance that the mornings of finding himself covered in someone else’s blood could be over, but he also couldn’t help but be somewhat apprehensive. What if this was just a fluke? What if next time Tatara came over on a full moon, Mikoto didn’t recognise him? The idea of hurting him made Mikoto’s stomach turn.

Especially now. They’d never really had any time just the two of them, and as much as Mikoto had sort of liked having the optimistic kid around when it was all three of them hanging out together (despite how reluctant he’d been about the prospect initially), now he’d had a chance to get to know Tatara just the two of them, he suddenly felt much stronger about him. Not only was Tatara the sweet optimist he’d always known he was, Mikoto now knew that he was utterly selfless to the point of recklessness, forgiving, accepting, affectionate, encouraging… He was everything Mikoto had always wanted to be, but never could.

And most importantly, he was apparently fearless. Even Izumo was afraid of him in his wolf form- not that he didn’t have good reason to be, but it still stung a little- so it was heartening to know there was someone out there who was genuinely unafraid of him. Someone who looked for the good in everyone, even monsters.

Maybe that was why Mikoto had always felt… protective of him. Even when he’d barely known Tatara, if anyone else had fallen into the road in front of him, he’d have checked they weren’t dead, maybe called them a cab, and been on his way. But there was something about Tatara that made Mikoto want to make sure he got home safely, and the more he’d gotten to know him, the more he seemed like someone worth protecting. Apart from anything else, he was weak and accident-prone, and too optimistic about a world that wasn’t as kind as he seemed to think it was. But he was also a good person, despite his pushiness and his stubbornness and his recklessness, and the thought of endangering him the way he was by accepting his offer of company on full moons made Mikoto feel a little sick with himself.

But that wasn’t the only thing bothering him. Ever since he was bitten, Mikoto had made a promise to himself not to get too attached to anyone. Izumo had already been his friend for years by that point, and with everything that’d happened around that time, Mikoto couldn’t bring himself to push him away. But there didn’t need to be anyone else- it’d just put them in danger.

And then Mikoto met Tatara.

And his resolve crumbled.

It had been alright when their friendship was limited strictly to the lunch break between classes, and even when they’d occasionally started hanging out at Izumo’s place after school, it still meant he didn’t spend _too_ much time with him, couldn’t get _too_ attached.

And now, both the physical and the emotional distance Mikoto had built up had been obliterated. The whole night while Tatara had been chattering away to him, he’d been running his hand over Mikoto’s pelt, stroking his fur, and that contact was... Mikoto didn’t know how to describe how much such a simple gesture had meant to him. He was a monster, and yet here was this boy, this beautiful, stupid, reckless boy sitting with him as if nothing was amiss, soothing him with a touch of his hand- taking _enjoyment_ from being around him. It was difficult not to find that affirming. And then, at some point in the night after he’d shifted back into his human form, he’d pulled Tatara against his chest in his sleep, subconsciously craving more of that affection, more of that affirmation. In one night, Tatara had made him feel more loved, more wanted, than anyone else ever had.

And it was because of Tatara that, for the first time since he’d been bitten, he was safe in the knowledge that he didn’t kill anyone that night. It was because of Tatara that he’d had some blissful distraction from reality. It was because of Tatara, because Tatara hadn’t been afraid or disgusted, that, for the first time in years, he didn’t feel like a monster.

What else was he to do but fall in love with him?

_Love…_

It seemed like a bit of a strong word for something as sudden as an overnight epiphany, but nothing else felt appropriate. To be perfectly honest, he probably wouldn’t have realised his feelings for Tatara were romantic at all if it weren’t for the odd feeling he got in his chest when Tatara had admitted that he wasn’t straight. The knowledge that he actually had a chance of making more of their relationship had set something off in his mind, and suddenly he found himself longing to turn mornings like that one into a regular occurrence, waking up to the sun streaming in between the curtains and the warmth of Tatara’s slim frame cuddled up to his own…

Mikoto had never really thought about another man in that context before, but then again, he’d never really thought about _anyone_ in that context before, so it didn’t exactly come as any sort of surprise that the object of his affections was male. He was just Tatara; nothing else really played into it.

Though, Mikoto did have to admit, he was sort of attractive in the physical sense too. Very attractive, actually. He wasn’t sure if that was because he had a thing for pretty, feminine guys, or if he only found that type of person attractive because Tatara _was_ a pretty, feminine guy, but either way, he wasn’t about to lose too much sleep over it.

Far more concerning was that Mikoto had never wanted to be dependent on anyone; the idea made him uncomfortable, almost _afraid._ And despite how strongly the idea repulsed him, after just one night, he could already feel himself needing Tatara.

But, as he finally shut off the water, he realised that, for now at least, he couldn’t even bring himself to care.

That boy was one hell of a drug.

 

When Mikoto returned from the bathroom, a towel around his waist, Tatara let out a quiet yelp of surprise at the sound of the door opening. His gaze had been focussed on some middle distance, and he appeared to have been snapped out of a daydream by Mikoto’s entrance.

“You okay?”

“Y-yeah, you just startled me is all.”

“Sorry.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Tatara murmured, reaching for his phone. “I’m guessing you don’t feel up to going to class?”

“Nah. Always feel a bit rough after full moons.”

“Do you want me to stick around and keep you company?” His response was instant, knee-jerk.

_God, why is he so eager to help me?_

“I don’t want you to miss school.”  

“I’d do anything to get out of Weismann’s history class; don’t sweat it. I’ll catch up fine. I’d be late if I left now, anyway.”

“Alright. Yeah, company’d be nice.” Internally, Mikoto berated himself for indulging his developing addiction.

“No problem,” Tatara said with a smile. “I should probably tell Izumo I won’t be in today…”

“I’ll tell him. I need to tell him you know about… me, anyway.”

“Alright, that’s fine. Mind if I use your shower?”

“No problem; spare towel’s in the cupboard. Do you need any clean clothes?”

“A clean shirt would be nice, if that’s okay.”

Mikoto dug out a t-shirt from his drawer and handed it to Tatara, then waited for him to leave the room before drying himself off. Once he was dressed, he picked up his phone and dropped a text to Izumo:

_[Suoh Mikoto: 08:47] Totsuka isn’t going into class today, he’s at my place_

_[Kusanagi Izumo: 08:49] At yours? I take it that means he knows then?_

_[Suoh Mikoto: 08:50] Yeah_

_[Kusanagi Izumo: 08:51] How?_

_[Suoh Mikoto: 08:51] I told him_

While that wasn’t exactly true, Mikoto wasn’t keen to tell Izumo the details about how the previous night had gone down. For one, he wasn’t looking forward to the telling off Izumo would give him for putting Tatara in danger like that, and whilst Mikoto understood where he was coming from, he wasn’t in the mood for it. It wasn’t like it was his fault, anyway. That, and because he didn’t want Izumo getting any suspicions about the nature of his relationship with Tatara- that would only give validation to the feelings he was trying to suppress. The more people thought they were more than friends, the harder it would be to deny that that was what he wanted.

_[Kusanagi Izumo: 08:53] How’d he take it?_

_[Suoh Mikoto: 08:54] Well he hasn’t run for the hills yet_

_[Kusanagi Izumo: 08:55] I suppose that’s a good sign. It’ll be a relief not to keep secrets from him anymore_

Izumo was right about that; Mikoto had begun to feel a bit disingenuous keeping it from him, and sneaking around behind his back was a pain.

When Tatara returned to Mikoto’s bedroom, clean and dressed, he looked far too bright and perky for the early hour. The only reason Mikoto had gotten out of bed when he did was because his muscles ached too much for him to get back to sleep; otherwise, he would have happily stayed under the covers with Tatara…

He shook the thought out of his head and returned his attention to the present, which turned out not to be much better. Mikoto had given Tatara the smallest shirt that he owned, but Tatara was far shorter and far skinnier than he was, so even that hung off his slender frame like a dress…

_Shit, he’s cute._

Mikoto couldn’t remember thinking anything was cute in his life.

“You hungry?” Tatara asked, snapping Mikoto out of his thoughts.

“Yeah, starving.” Mikoto always woke up ravenous after full moons- he supposed the transformation process probably used a lot of energy.

“I’ll make us some breakfast.”

“You’re a guest,” Mikoto pointed out.

“Exactly. Consider it a thank you for letting me stay the night. Besides, you’re in pain; you don’t need to be standing up and cooking.”

Mikoto sighed and conceded, very quickly realising there was nothing he could do to dissuade him. So he followed him through to the kitchen and sat down at the table, watching Tatara with his chin resting in his palm as he familiarised himself with the layout of the room, then started poking around in the fridge for ingredients, humming the entire time.

When Tatara turned around from the stove a short while later, carrying a pair of plates laden with freshly-cooked omelettes, Mikoto had been stretching his arms above his head to try and ease the soreness out of his shoulders, and he spotted a thoughtful look cross Tatara’s face as he set the plates on the table.

“What?” Mikoto asked.

“I noticed earlier when you got out of bed… you have a lot of scars.”

Mikoto supposed Tatara saw his shirt riding up as he was stretching and spotted them. “Yeah. Don’t remember getting them, probably just pissed off the wildlife or something.”

A small, concerned pout pursed Tatara’s lips, and it sent more of those intrusive thoughts about how cute he was bubbling up at the back of Mikoto’s mind.  

“They look pretty bad… like you got them from a fight with something that could hold its own against you, something big with pointy claws rather than from… I don’t know, hunting deer or something.”

Mikoto shrugged. “Aren’t there bears on Honshu?”

“That’s what I thought, they’re pretty rare though…”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m scarier than anything out there.”

“How do you explain them to people when you’re getting changed for gym class?” Tatara said, his concerned tone having very quickly made way for a more light-hearted one.

“I hardly go to gym class.”

“Has nobody ever asked?”

“A couple times. I tell them to mind their own business. Or that they’re sex injuries.”

Tatara giggled, and Mikoto spotted a twinge of colour flood into his cheeks at the dirty joke. “Well, hopefully you won’t have to worry about getting any new ones anyway. N-not sex injuries obviously… I mean…” He huffed. “Can I start that sentence again?”

Mikoto laughed.

 

The rest of the day continued in much the same vein; Tatara spent it doting over Mikoto and insisting he got his rest, whilst Mikoto complained that he wasn’t a child and he wasn’t deathly unwell, but Tatara seemed to be selectively deaf to his protests. They ended up spending most of the day on the sofa watching cheesy American daytime television (Tatara claimed it made up for his missed English Language class, but Mikoto wasn’t so convinced) and snacking, though over the course of one of the shows, Mikoto noticed his friend edging closer to him, until he was tucked neatly under his arm. Mikoto pulled him in close casually, allowing himself to enjoy the contact- he reasoned there was no harm in it (a blatant lie), and there was something pleasant about the way Tatara’s body slotted so perfectly against his own. It seemed likely to him that Tatara wouldn’t read too much into the affection; Tatara was a very touchy-feely person by nature, so such open displays of friendship weren’t exactly an unusual thing for him. Plus, Mikoto hoped that Tatara would assume he didn’t swing that way; when Tatara had confessed his own sexuality, Mikoto had said nothing, which he hoped would suggest there was nothing to say about it.

By the time Tatara finally suggested he should probably get going, it had already begun to get dark again.

“My dad texted me; he finally noticed I was missing. I should go home and see if he’s alright,” he said reluctantly.

“You don’t need an excuse to go home. I can take care of myself.”

“Are you sure? Because if you need anything…”

“I can feed myself for the rest of the day,” Mikoto cut in.

“Alright, alright. Thank you for having me over.”

Mikoto rolled his eyes. “It’s nothing. Thank _you_ for stopping me from going on a murderous rampage,” he responded sarcastically, and Tatara giggled.

“Do you think you’ll make it to class tomorrow? Is that enough time to recover? It normally takes you longer…”

“I’m not as sore as usual. Probably because I haven’t been off doing God knows what. I’ll probably make it in tomorrow.”

“Let me know, okay?”

“Alright.”

“See you tomorrow~!” Tatara called as he walked out of the front door, and Mikoto waved him off from the window, noticing that the room seemed a little darker without him there.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter can also be found on [Tumblr.](http://mistleto-3.tumblr.com/post/155266855584/crying-for-the-moon-part-6)

When Tatara had decided he could be content with being special to Mikoto without necessarily being in a romantic relationship with him, he hadn’t been entirely aware of what he was letting himself in for. Having never had a real crush before, he didn’t know how much it _really sucked_ to pine over someone he didn’t think he could have, and therefore wasn’t exactly prepared for the side effects that came along with that, so the dreams, the difficulty concentrating, the errant thoughts, the fantasies about kissing him, the way his mouth went dry whenever they spent time together, the daydreams at the back of a particularly boring history class, and the constant fluttering sensation in his chest caught him off guard somewhat. His ever-present anxiety was beginning to fray his nerves somewhat, and it took less than three weeks for Tatara to near the end of his tether.

Not that it mattered- it wasn’t like he could act on his feelings for Mikoto, no matter how much he was struggling. Even Izumo had noticed that Mikoto seemed a little less depressed than usual; while he was still a stoic person, quiet laughter seemed to come a little easier to him now, and Tatara was almost convinced this was because some of the guilt of not knowing what he’d done and who he might have hurt on full moons had been alleviated. So, he couldn’t in good conscience put that at risk by confessing to him and making things awkward. Of course, he’d already known this- it had been among his first thoughts when he realised his feelings for Mikoto went beyond friendship. The problem was that he hadn’t been prepared for just how _difficult_ that would be.  

He was already struggling to keep his hands to himself- he was far more touchy-feely with Mikoto than he’d ever been before. To Tatara, it felt as though the bubble that had strictly enclosed Mikoto’s personal space had popped, and without realising it, he’d begun to sit closer beside him, tapping him on the arm when he wanted his attention instead of simply saying his name, straightening out his clothes if they were folded awkwardly or if the tag was sticking out of the collar of his shirt. Yet again, Izumo had noticed the change in their behaviour; he gave Tatara odd looks every time he noticed the closer contact between the pair.

It wasn’t as though the increased affection wasn’t requited, either; Mikoto had given Tatara his jacket a couple of times when it had gotten colder than he’d expected, and occasionally he’d even ruffled his hair fondly. Izumo had gotten to the point where he’d had to ask if anything out of the ordinary had happened between them the day after the full moon. Thankfully, he’d asked Mikoto, who was a much better liar than Tatara, who had just replied: “No.”

Mikoto’s denial only made Tatara more nervous, though. As firmly as he’d established with himself that a relationship was absolutely not possible, hearing Mikoto deny that what had happened between them that day was special still stung; it either meant that Mikoto was embarrassed by it, or that he didn’t want Izumo getting the wrong idea about their relationship, or that he simply didn’t think what happened between them was unusual. The cuddling on the couch, the spooning, the general intimacy _…_ did Mikoto really think that was just platonic?

By the time the next full moon rolled around, Tatara was about ready to lose his mind. As rode over to Mikoto’s house, he almost felt sick with nerves at the prospect of being alone with him again. Every time they saw each other, the twang of longing in his chest got even more difficult to ignore, and Tatara didn’t know if he’d be able to cope with a whole night, just the two of them. But when he unlocked the door of Mikoto’s bedroom and stepped inside to find his friend in a similar state to the last time: lying on his bed, stiff and subdued, all of Tatara’s pining and longing and anxiety simply… vanished. Nothing mattered except Mikoto’s distress. Without so much as a stutter in his pulse, Tatara climbed onto the mattress beside his friend, tucking himself against his body and wrapping his arms around him. 5 minutes until moonrise.

“It’s alright; it’ll be alright,” he whispered, and almost instantly, he felt the heaving of Mikoto’s chest slow, the trembling in his taut muscles beginning to steady as he relaxed into Tatara’s embrace.

“Deep breaths.” Tatara inhaled slowly to demonstrate, and Mikoto obediently synchronised his own breathing with Tatara’s. They lay like that for a long while, breathing steadily in time with one another, until Mikoto’s body began to twitch and a sharp gasp of pain escaped his throat.

“It’s okay… it’s okay…” All Tatara could do as he felt his friend beginning to convulse and then change shape in his arms, as he felt the fur sprout through his skin and his bones and muscles twist and distort beneath it, was repeat that mantra.

“It’ll be okay. I’m not afraid of you.”

Finally, Mikoto stopped shaking, and Tatara looked up to see his friend’s hazel eyes set into the face of a beast.

“You alright?”

He nodded, and Tatara grinned.

“I knew it wasn’t a fluke.” 

 

They passed the second full moon much like they had the first, with Tatara doing his best to keep Mikoto’s mind off his condition by chattering away to him whilst he combed his fingers through the soft fur on his shoulders. The only thing that really changed was that, this time, Tatara cooked a meal at Mikoto’s rather than bringing food over. Since last month, Mikoto had shared with him that he had a theory about transformation being very energy-intensive, and Tatara had taken that and run with it, insisting upon cooking him a hearty meal in the hopes that he wouldn’t feel quite so bad in the morning. Mikoto didn’t seem to be complaining; he ate everything that was put in front of him without hesitation. It was somewhat surreal for Tatara, eating his supper with an immense wolf sitting on the floor beside him, but now that he’d had a month to process the information about his friend’s predicament, he was slowly beginning to get accustomed to the idea, even if there were still times when he wasn’t completely sure he hadn’t dreamt the whole thing.

 

They woke up the next morning much like they had the first time too; Tatara had once again dozed off leaning against the comforting warmth of his friend’s body, and he once again woke up with Mikoto’s arm slung over his waist and his chest pressed to his back. And the moment he realised where he was, the anxiety and the yearning and every other ache behind his ribs that his stupid crush was responsible for resurged with a vengeance after having remained blissfully silent for the duration of the night. He could feel his pulse racing, his cheeks warming, and he had to beat back the urge to roll over in Mikoto’s arms and kiss him awake.

_I don’t know how much longer I can do this._

But at least he was getting some of his fix of his friend, and part of a fix was better than no fix at all. Or, that was what he told himself anyway.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter can also be found on [Tumblr.](http://mistleto-3.tumblr.com/post/155386314534/crying-for-the-moon-part-7)
> 
> Content warning for homophobia/homophobic abuse in this chapter!

It was a few days after Mikoto and Tatara returned to school after that full moon that the whispers started. Tatara had been making his way from the spot where he hung out with Mikoto and Izumo at lunch to his first class of the afternoon when he was stopped by a girl in his year. He didn’t know her especially well; they’d barely spoken before, and he wouldn’t have even known her name if he wasn’t the type who made it his business to remember people’s names.

“Are you gay?” She asked him. No greeting, no introduction.

Tatara blinked in surprise. “No… where did you hear that?”

“Like, everyone’s talking about it on Jungle.”

“I can’t say I use it much…” Tatara’s phone was somewhat outdated, and was only really functional for texting and calling; it wouldn’t run apps like those.

The girl looked as though she was about to say something else when she was interrupted by her friend calling her over, and she walked away without saying goodbye. Tatara decided it was best to put it out of his mind; it was an odd thing to be asked, but he didn’t think there was much point dwelling on it if it was just a one-off.

Except it wasn’t. The next day, as he walked to meet with his friends during a break between classes, he was accosted once more, this time by a boy in Mikoto’s year.

“Are you and Suoh an item?”

“No, why?” Tatara was a little more thrown by this question. Being asked if he was gay he could sort of understand- he wasn’t the most masculine of men, and while he resented the stereotype and the nerve of some people, asking him such a personal question, he at least _understood_ the logic behind it. This, though, this he didn’t get.

“I just heard rumours,” the boy explained.

“Right. I have to go,” Tatara replied, then made his escape to join his friends before any other questions could be asked.

When he arrived at the spot where they usually hung out, Tatara set down his bag with a huff of exasperation. “So, I just got asked if Mikoto and I were a couple.” When Mikoto looked over to listen to him speak, their eyes met briefly, and Tatara found himself dropping the eye contact nervously.

“Seriously? By who?” Izumo asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Some guy in your year. I don’t even know him. And a girl asked me yesterday if I was gay.”

“That’s pretty rude,” Izumo said with a frown. “What’d ya say?”

“No, of course, and I asked the girl where she heard it from and she said the rumours are going around Jungle.”

“Huh. I’ve seen a couple o’ whispers to that effect on some o’ the Jungle chatrooms, but I passed ‘em off as nonsense.”

“What did people say?”

“Some things about ya missin’ school together, an’ about ya being quite close as friends, especially considering Mikoto’s reputation as the distant type. That, an’ some comments about ya being reasonably effeminate, no offense. I just thought the talk was nonsense, some spiteful girls who Mikoto turned down in the past or something; I didn’t think anyone actually believed it.”

* * *

 

As the week progressed, it became increasingly clear that people _did_ believe it. Not a day passed that week without at least one person inquiring about Tatara’s sexuality or his relationship status, and it was starting to get to him. Not that he would ever say anything about it, of course- he wasn’t the type to go for confrontation- but the combination of the invasiveness of the questions and the way they rubbed the fact that he couldn’t have Mikoto in his face were starting to get under his skin, and on top of all of that, the derisive, and even disgusted looks he started receiving in the hallways were starting to make him feel a little bit unsafe.  

One person had even made an ill-advised attempt to ask Mikoto the same question, but the inquirer had promptly been told to “Fuck off,” and nobody bothered Mikoto again after that.

“Aren’t you bothered by this?” Tatara had asked Mikoto one lunch time, but his friend had merely shrugged in response.

“Why not?”

“Just rumours; they can’t hurt. In a week or two, people will find a new rumour to obsess over and they’ll leave us alone.”

It seemed however that Mikoto had underestimated just how much the rumours could hurt, or had forgotten that Tatara was significantly more vulnerable than he was. Of course, they’d started as harmless rumours, but this was high school, so inevitably, there were people who took things too far.

When Tatara first heard someone shout a homophobic slur across the hallway at him, he flinched, but brushed it off. _Sticks and stones,_ he told himself, which would have been fine if it had ended there, but it hadn’t.

Tatara had been walking towards the gates to leave the school grounds and head home when he heard the shout again, but this time the speaker wasn’t lost in the crowd- he was barely twenty feet behind him, and closing in. When Tatara turned around to see who had spoken, the pair of them burst into peals of derisive laughter.

“Gross, he answers to it!”

Tatara recognised the both of them as boys in his year; the one speaking had a distinctive hooked nose, and wore a wide, mocking grin as he approached Tatara, and his friend beside him had shaggy brown hair and snickered at his comments. Tatara shoved his hands into his pockets, turning away from the pair as he increased his pace.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going? We’re talking to you!”

When Tatara sped up once more, one of the boys yanked the back of his coat, stopping him in his tracks, and he spluttered as the collar of his coat dug into his throat.

“I said we’re talking to you, so you better answer us. Are they true, the rumours?” The boy was smirking as he spoke.

“No, they aren’t…” Tatara tried his best to sound calm and casual as he always did had to force the words out; his breath felt as though it had frozen in his lungs. The brunette was holding his jacket, and his friend’s fingers were twitching, as though he was aching to close them into a fist.

“It’s rude to lie.”

“It’s ruder to gang up on someone.” A voice sounded from behind them, and the boys’ heads snapped around. Mikoto strolled towards them, his hands in his pockets and his gait slow and relaxed. “How ‘bout we make this a fair fight?”

The hook-nosed boy turned around to face him, squaring up, and for a moment, Tatara felt his chest tighten.

_Funny, how I’m more worried about Mikoto than I was about myself._

He didn’t need to be concerned for long, though. With one swift punch, Mikoto knocked the boy off his feet, and there was a sickening crack as Mikoto’s knuckles broke his ugly hooked nose. His friend quickly released Tatara and bolted, leaving the other boy laid out on the tarmac with blood streaming down his cheek.

“You okay?” Mikoto turned to Tatara, slipping his hands back into his pockets.

“Yeah, I’m fine… You didn’t have to do that.”

“He was gonna take a swing at you. He deserved it.”

Tatara was about to protest when he was interrupted by the sound of a teacher’s voice; Mikoto’s homeroom teacher was marching across the car park towards them.

“Suoh! What on earth?”

She brushed straight past him to kneel beside the boy on the ground, who appeared to have been knocked out cold.

“Him and his friend were about to beat me up, Mikoto was only trying to protect-…”

“I think you ought to go home,” the teacher interrupted him.

Tatara glanced over at Mikoto, chewing his lip, but his friend merely nodded in agreement.

“Okay… see you,” he said reluctantly, then made his way over to the bike rack, but he couldn’t stop himself from glancing back over his shoulder.

* * *

 

It wasn’t until a few hours later that evening that Tatara finally heard from Mikoto; he’d been texting him all afternoon asking for updates, but hadn’t received a reply until now.

_[Suoh Mikoto: 20:16] Just got home._

_[Totsuka Tatara: 20:16] What happened?_

_[Suoh Mikoto: 20:21] The teacher called an ambulance. The kid’s nose is broken but he’s otherwise fine, he’d already woken up by the time the paramedic got there. I had to go to a conference with the head of grade, I got suspended until the end of the week._

_[Totsuka Tatara: 20:21] Suspended? Jeez, I never heard of them doing that before._

_[Suoh Mikoto: 20:23] The kid’s dad called and he was mad, so I think they did it to placate him._

_[Totsuka Tatara: 20:23] Ah, I see. Are you okay?_

_[Suoh Mikoto: 20:25] Yeah. Free vacation._

_[Totsuka Tatara: 20:26] You seem awfully calm about this._

_[Suoh Mikoto: 20:28] He deserved it, and hopefully this will take the heat off you._

_[Totsuka Tatara: 20:29] You didn’t have to do this, you know._

_[Suoh Mikoto: 20:32] Him and his pal would have beaten the shit out of you._

_[Totsuka Tatara: 20:33] You didn’t deserve to get suspended though._

_[Suoh Mikoto: 20:35] I don’t care about getting suspended. I couldn’t stand by and watch him wreck that pretty face of yours. His nose was already fucked up- better his get broken than yours._

Although Tatara knew full well that the “pretty face” comment was a joke, he still felt his heart rise into his throat.

_[Totsuka Tatara: 20:36] Alright. Well, let me know if you get bored or anything._

_[Suoh Mikoto: 20:39] Will do._

* * *

 

Mikoto was right about the altercation taking the heat off of Tatara; news of what happened that afternoon had circulated the school by the next morning, and there was a significant drop in the teasing. Nobody wanted to get on Mikoto’s bad side, it seemed, which Tatara was grateful for, even if he did feel bad that Mikoto got suspended because of him. He’d never heard of anyone getting suspended from their school before, but apparently the father of the boy who’d gotten beaten up was quite wealthy and had made some generous donations to the school, so the principal had wanted to remain in his good books.

However, as much as he was glad the teasing had stopped, the rumours certainly hadn’t. If anything, speculation about their relationship status had only been fuelled by Mikoto’s defence of Tatara, and the truth about what had taken place had mutated quite dramatically by the time the story had been passed around the whole student body. By lunch time, Izumo had heard varying accounts of a dramatic fight between Mikoto and Tatara’s attacker, of the attacker finding them together behind the bike sheds, of Mikoto starting the fight when he heard the boy saying something homophobic. Almost none of them included the second bully, who denied any involvement, and very few said anything about how Tatara likely would have been beaten for no good reason if Mikoto hadn’t stepped in.

Of course, Izumo didn’t believe a word of it; Tatara had filled him in with the truth about what had happened as soon as he got home, and he noticed that while Mikoto was suspended, Izumo seemed to be lingering a little closer to Tatara than usual, as though to protect him if someone else tried their luck as the hooked-nosed boy had. It wasn’t difficult to tell he was worried about both of his friends; it seemed the school was becoming more hostile by the day.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter can also be found on [Tumblr.](http://mistleto-3.tumblr.com/post/155558111099/crying-for-the-moon-part-8)

Twenty thousand yen. That was the cost of the cheapest bike Tatara could find for sale, and he had nowhere  _near_ that amount of money; his father was struggling to make ends meet as it was. By now, winter had firmly seized hold of the town, and it was getting far too cold to walk to school and back every day- it was a long trek from his home and back, and Tatara didn’t want to spend too much time in the cold and risk getting sick; he didn’t really have money for medicine or doctor’s visits. He would have gotten the bus to class and back, but the fare would have quickly added up to more than Tatara could afford; while he did have a weekend job at the corner store near his house, most of  his wages went to keeping the lights on and the fridge full when his father wasn’t able to, which was another risk of getting sick- missing a shift at work wasn’t really an option. Not that he complained, but now that he had no bike, the fact he’d been unable to save up for an incident like this was inconvenient. Not to mention that there was only a week until the full moon, and being without his bike would make getting to Mikoto’s house a struggle. He’d be willing to walk there, of course he would, but once again his worry was that his immune system wasn’t exactly the strongest, and an hour out in the freezing cold didn’t seem like the best idea.

When he’d finished class the day after Mikoto had gotten into that fight, he’d found his bike no longer fastened to the rack where he’d left it- in its place, the severed chain of his bike lock lay in a heap on the ground. He had his suspicions that the theft had something to do with the rumours still circulating about him, which had only been stoked by the news that Mikoto had broken someone’s nose in his defence.

When he told Izumo of his conundrum the next day, he’d instantly offered to spot him the cash.

“I can’t let you give me that much money; I’ve no way to pay it back.”

“Ya can’t be without a bike, though. How’ll ya get to class?”

“I’ll have to walk…”

“Your house is  _miles_ from here, Totsuka. You’ll freeze.”

“What else am I supposed to do?”

“Tell ya what. Pick up a few shifts helpin’ out at my uncle’s bar, work off the cost of the bike. We could always use a few extra hands.”

“Seriously? Are you sure that’s alright?”

“Of course. We can’t have you strugglin’ to get to school an’ back. Not to mention gettin’ ta Mikoto’s place; he’s seemed a lot happier now ya’ve been goin’ over and takin’ care of him after full moons. My uncle knows about Mikoto; he won’t mind ya borrowin’ some money to make sure he’s alright.”

“You’re an absolute lifesaver!” Tatara threw his arms around his friend in gratitude, though he had to admit he was a little curious as to why Izumo’s uncle knew about Mikoto’s condition, but the bell to signal the end of the lunch break rang before he had a chance to ask.

After school that day, Izumo accompanied Tatara into the town to visit the cycle shop and helped him pick out a replacement for his stolen bike, along with a sturdier bike lock, then paid with his uncle’s credit card.

“Are you absolutely sure he won’t mind? I don’t want you getting into trouble…”

“My uncle is more the front-of-house guy; I deal with all the money. He isn’t too good with numbers, so he leaves that stuff to me; he won’t even notice.”

“Well, thank you.”

“Just lemme know when you have a few hours spare to help out.”

Wheeling the bike out of the store, Tatara felt a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He thanked Izumo a dozen times before his friend finally told him to piss off home with an exasperated smile, though Tatara hadn’t been able to resist shouting another “thank you” over his shoulder as he rode away.

* * *

 

The next day was a Friday, the busiest evening of the week for the Kusanagis’ bar, so Tatara volunteered to lend a hand and headed over for his first shift after class. He’d visited the place before, but never stayed long in the bar itself; when he and Mikoto went over to hang out with Izumo, they spent most of their time in his bedroom in the apartment above the establishment.

While Izumo and Mikoto were technically neighbours, the bar was on the main street, whereas Mikoto’s house was set back off the road, accessible only by a long, gravel driveway. It was easy to miss from the main road; the pub was on the very edge of the small village, and the woodland that surrounded the settlement swallowed Mikoto’s house from view.

When Tatara pushed open the door, a bell jingled to announce his arrival, and Izumo poked his head out from the back room at the sound.

“Ah, Totsuka, you’re early. We don’t open for another half an hour.”

“I figured I might as well make a good impression, help out if I can.”

Izumo rolled his eyes. “We’re pretty much all set for opening by now. How’s the new bike?”

“It’s great, I love it,” he said with a grin.  

Izumo walked around the bar to take a seat on one of the red velvet stools in front of it, and Tatara sat beside him.

“Have you seen Mikoto since the other day?” Tatara asked.

“Yeah, I went ta check in on him a couple days ago; he seems pretty happy about being able to stay home an’ sleep all day.”

“I didn’t expect much different,” Tatara said with a chuckle. “So… you said your uncle knows about Mikoto’s... condition?”

“Ah, yeah… That’s quite the can o’ worms you’ve opened there.”

“Sorry, if you don’t want to talk about it…”

“No, no,” Izumo interrupted. “Ya oughta know, seein’ as you’re involved in all this now. The only reason’s cause Mikoto’s lived next door to me my whole life; we were only born a couple months apart, so we grew up together. The night Mikoto was turned, we were both nine years old. Our houses were both attacked; he got bit, and the wolf killed my parents.”

“I’m sorry… I had no idea…” Tatara had always wondered why Izumo never mentioned his parents, but he decided now that he knew, he would’ve preferred to have remained oblivious.

“It’s alright; it was a long time ago. The wolf’s urban legend around these parts; people say there are still wolves in these forests, even though wolves went extinct in Japan more’n a hundred years ago. Most people in the village are pretty sceptical about it, ‘specially the younger ones; they pass it off as stray dogs in the woods, or as a story people made up to stop kids venturin’ too far into the forest and gettin’ lost. I never believed in it when I was a kid, but Mikoto’s grandfather was very superstitious, and he wouldn’t let him play outside on a full moon when he was little.”

“His grandfather?”

“Yeah, I never knew anythin’ about Mikoto’s parents. He was raised by his mother’s father, a strict old guy, he was. Never let Mikoto believe in Santa Claus or anythin’ like that, said it was nonsense, but he was obsessed with this fear of wolves, and I never believed a word o’ it before I saw it the night my parents died. Mikoto’s grandfather called it ‘Kagutsu,’ said it was named after Kagutsuchi, the fire deity, because it has red fur, but I ain’t never heard anyone else call it that.”

“Red fur? Like Mikoto?”

“You’ve seen Mikoto’s wolf form?!”

“Of course I have… Mikoto didn’t tell you that?”

“No! How aren’t ya dead?!”

“What  _did_  Mikoto tell you, exactly?”

“He said he told ya about his condition, and ya came ta keep him company the day after the full moon, an’ it helped him feel better quicker, ta keep his mind off it, which I thought was why ya needed to go see him.”

“Ah…” Tatara chewed his lip.

“I take it that ain’t what happened?”

“Not exactly… I went over after school, the night of the full moon, to bring him some soup and to see if he needed anything, because I thought he was sick.” Tatara purposely left out the part about bringing him flowers. “And I went looking for him and I found him in his room, and he started yelling at me to get out of there, then he transformed.”

“Christ… And he didn’t attack you?”

“No. He recognised me; he said, well, not  _said_ , but I asked him if he normally lost himself when he transformed and he nodded, but for some reason he didn’t when I was there. So I just hung out with him, chatted with him to keep his mind off stuff, and I ended up falling asleep on him. When we woke up in the morning, I stayed to look after him because he felt a bit under the weather. It seemed like it was my presence that stopped him losing his mind, so I offered to stay with him every full moon.”

“Bloody hell…” Izumo’s mouth hung open in astonishment. “Just… be careful, okay? If it was a fluke…”

“It wasn’t.” Tatara cut in.

“How can ya be sure?”

“Because it’s happened more than once now, and he recognised me both times.”

“Well… still be careful. You never know what could happen, an’ he’s dangerous when he doesn’t know who he is; I’m like a brother to him, an’ he doesn’t even recognise  _me_  when he’s in wolf form.”

“Really?”

Izumo nodded, a grim expression on his face, and he pulled up his shirt to reveal three parallel lines gouged into the skin of his abdomen, raised and pink against the surrounding flesh. The scars were old and fading, but the wounds they commemorated had evidently been quite gruesome.  

“He did that to you…?” Tatara asked quietly as Izumo tucked his shirt back into his waistband.

“The first time he transformed. Thankfully he didn’t bite me, so I didn’t end up a werewolf myself, but I had to get a lot of stitches. I never told ‘im about what he did; it wasn’t his fault, so he didn’t need the guilt, but I think he figured out that  _somethin’_ happened ‘cause I was off school for about a week after it happened.”

“So if he normally can’t control himself, what used to happen on full moons? He said he usually wakes up in the woods covered in blood…”

“We did our best every month to try an’ lock him away, but he almost always managed to escape, so my uncle an’ I ended up barrin’ the doors to keep ourselves safe, an’ we faked a burglary at the bar to encourage the neighbours to beef up their security systems. Thankfully, we don’t think he’s hurt anyone since then- he normally keeps to himself up in the woods and stays outta the town, but a few people’s pets have gone missin’ and stuff like that, and the deer population in the woods is goin’ down. We think he just panicked that first night. My uncle hasn’t forgiven him, though.”

“Why not? It’s not like Mikoto did it on purpose…”

“No, but he also looks a lot like Kagutsu, and my uncle never quite got over his vendetta against him; he’s always wanted to avenge his brother and sister-in-law, and the resemblance between ‘em is pretty striking. Obviously, he’d never act on it; he doesn’t want to accidentally hurt Mikoto. While he ain’t exactly Mikoto’s biggest fan, he’s no barbarian. He wouldn’t kill an innocent kid.”

Tatara nodded slowly, a forlorn expression on his face. “Well… at least, if I’m right, your uncle won’t have to worry about Mikoto anymore.”

“I admire your faith, kid. You trust him an awful lot, based on a couple o’ nights.”

“I just… have this feeling about him.”

“…I’m sorry if this is outta place, but I have ta ask: do those rumours about you an’ Mikoto bein’ a couple have any groundin’ in reality? Obviously I ain’t gonna judge if they do…”

“No. We aren’t a couple.”

“…You’d like to be though, wouldn’t ya?”

Tatara felt his cheeks heat up at the question. “W-what? Of course not…”

“You’re a terrible liar, Totsuka. I’ve see the way ya look at him, the way ya talk about him, the way ya always stand so close ta each other. You like him, don’t ya?”

Tatara’s eyes darted about frantically as he scrambled for some plausible denial, but he drew nothing but blanks. With a sigh, he admitted: “Yeah, I do. It’d never work though, so… please don’t tell him.”

“Why doncha think it’d work?”

“If I’m right, then I’m the only thing stopping him from losing his sanity on full moons. If he doesn’t like me back, it’ll just make things really awkward. I want to help him; I don’t want things to be too unbearable between us that I couldn’t do that anymore.”

“Mikoto isn’t exactly the type to care about awkwardness,” Izumo pointed out.

“Still, it’s not worth the risk. It’d be selfish of me to put Mikoto’s mental health on the line like that, and that  _is_ what I’d be risking. He was obviously really suffering, knowing he could potentially  _kill_ someone, and I’m the only one who can give him peace of mind about that.”

“You’re talkin’ as though there ain’t a chance he’ll like you back.”

“What, you think there is?” Tatara’s voice was sceptical.

“I mean, he obviously ain’t a homophobe, or he’d care more about the rumours goin’ around about you two, but he only cared when people started pickin’ on you for it. But aside from that, I’ve never seen him warm up to anyone like he warmed up ta you. Anyone else he would’a told to scram, but he let you stick around, even though he hasn’t made any new friends in over 8 years. You should go for it.”

“Just because he likes me as a friend doesn’t mean he’ll want to  _date_ me.”  

“Ya said you fell asleep on him, right? Was that in his bed?”

“…Yeah, so what? You said you used to top and tail with him.”

“Yeah, when we were  _six._  Nowadays, sharing a bed with anyone is about ten levels too intimate for someone like Mikoto, and he let you do it. ‘S kinda romantic, don’t you think?”

“That’s a bit of a stretch… It’s not unheard of for friends to share a bed. And he was a  _wolf_.”

“Was he a wolf in the morning, when ya woke up?”

“Well, no… he’d changed back by then.”

“Exactly. Somethin’ tells me you’re playing down how romantic it actually was. I told ya, you ain’t a good liar.”

“Okay, so I woke up and he was sort of spooning me, but he was  _asleep…_ ”

He was interrupted by Izumo chuckling.

“Shush…” Tatara grumbled. “He just doesn’t seem like he’s interested in guys… he doesn’t seem like he’s interested in  _anyone._ Have you ever heard him say he has a crush?”

“There’s a first time for everythin’. Stranger things’ve happened.”

“You spouting clichés doesn’t prove anything,” he protested.

“I still think ya should go for it.”

“I told you, I can’t risk him turning me down; if he isn’t into guys, I’ll just make a fool of myself.”

“What if I found out for ya?”

“What, find out if Mikoto is into guys?”

“Yeah.”

“…As long as you promise not to tell him I like him, then I guess…” Tatara conceded reluctantly, but he felt his pulse stutter in his chest. The possibility of his feelings for Mikoto ever being requited was not one he’d considered. Hell, he’d never even intended for anyone to  _know_  about his crush _,_ much less help him find out if there was a chance he could act on it. But Izumo, who’d known Mikoto longer than anyone in the world, seemed to think he had a shot, and Tatara didn’t know how to feel about that. Of course, he was hopeful, but the prospect of commitment and of what might happen if he messed things up made his heart beat so quickly that his chest ached.

“I promise. On the condition that, if he does swing that way, you ask him out.”

_“Fine.”_

The hopeful part of Tatara was sort of glad that his hand was being forced; it had been less than a month since he’d realised his feelings for Mikoto went a little further than friendship, and it was already becoming unbearable. Just being  _around_ Mikoto made his throat dry up and his head go hazy and his words turn to gobbledygook as he tried to speak them, and it would be a welcome relief if he could put an end to that as quickly as possible.

But of course, there was also the quiet pessimist in the back of his mind that wanted to indulge his fantasies about Mikoto having feelings for him a little while longer before they either became a reality, or were destroyed.

“Come on, it’s almost opening time,” Izumo said gently, but there was a mischievous smile on his face.  

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter can also be found on Tumblr.

For the rest of the weekend, Tatara hadn’t been able to get the things that Izumo had said about Mikoto’s past out of his head. Now he’d gotten a brief taste of what his childhood had been like, he’d only begun to crave the rest of the story; the conversation with Izumo had raised more questions than it had answered, and now he found himself filled with curiosity about what Mikoto’s life had been like before they’d met- about his grandfather, about his parents, about how things had been before he was bitten…

Admittedly, he did think it was a little odd that, for all the time they’d known each other now, Tatara barely knew any more about Mikoto’s life than he did when they were strangers, but Mikoto was a very private person, so he brushed it off as something that was to be expected, resolving that he’d use the next full moon as an opportunity to gain a little more insight.

Thankfully, he only had to wait until Sunday, though it wasn’t like there wasn’t much he could ask about during the evening when Mikoto couldn’t speak, but they’d have plenty of time in the morning, and he completely forgot his curiosity the moment he saw Mikoto anyway. It was impossible to worry about trivial things like that when his friend was curled up on his mattress in the foetal position, trembling. Tatara hurried to his side, instinctively burrowing himself into Mikoto’s arms, and he felt his friend’s hands fist in his shirt, gripping the fabric tightly. The tendons in his neck strained beneath the skin as he struggled to bite back a groan of agony.

Tatara no longer felt afraid as Mikoto transformed; he was utterly confident that Mikoto remembering who he was hadn’t been a freak event, and surely enough, the first thing Mikoto did when his body settled into its other form was nuzzle Tatara’s cheek briefly.

“You’re much more affectionate as a wolf, you know that? It’s refreshing.”

Mikoto merely huffed and shifted on the mattress to make himself more comfortable.

Even though this was only the third full moon Tatara had spent with him, it already felt almost… normal. Routine. Though, as he chattered away, updating Mikoto on what had gone on at school while he’d been suspended, he did still get the occasional moment of bemusement.

_My best friend is a werewolf._

He wasn’t sure how long it would take him to completely get used to that idea, but he made a mental note to ask Izumo if it was ever something he truly got accustomed to.

Once again, he was lulled to sleep that night by the rhythmic sound of Mikoto’s breathing, though as he hovered on the edge of consciousness, he vaguely remembered deciding that even if he did get used to this one day, he’d never ever take it for granted.

* * *

 

When Tatara woke up the next morning, he was alone in Mikoto’s bed. The first thing he felt was disappointment- he’d been looking forward to their lazy morning cuddles…

Cold fear jolted him awake like a bucket of ice water as he realised what Mikoto being missing could mean.

_Where is he? Surely he couldn’t have…_

He shot bolt upright, scolding himself for thinking so selfishly about something like cuddling when his friend could be anywhere. “Mikoto?” he called, desperately trying to quash the fears that Mikoto had forgotten who he was after all, and had snuck out in the night.

“In the kitchen,” came the reply, and Tatara let out a gasp of relief; he hadn’t realised he’d been holding his breath. Feeling embarrassed for worrying, he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and shook his head to clear the negative thoughts before glancing over at the clock.

_Seriously? It’s almost eleven? Crap._

Tatara had always been something of an early bird, so waking up so late came as a shock. Even when he had the day off, it was rare he was out of bed after nine. He half-leapt out of the bed, scurrying through to the kitchen to find Mikoto standing by the stove, pushing scrambled eggs around in the pan on the hob.

“Sorry, I don’t usually wake up so late… I feel like I’ve wasted half the day.”

“I only woke up fifteen minutes ago,” Mikoto replied with a shrug. “You seemed tired.”

“Yeah, I guess I must have been. I picked up a couple of extra shifts at work this week…”

“Along with the one at the Kusanagis’ bar?”

“You know about that?”

“Was it supposed to be a secret?”

“Not particularly, I guess.”

“Why’re you working there anyway?”

“My bike got stolen, and Izumo offered to spot me the cash to replace it because I didn’t have a rainy-day fund. I said there was no way I’d be able to pay him back, and he offered to let me work off the debt and call it even.”

“Stolen? By who?”

“I don’t know; there aren’t any security cameras.”

Mikoto nodded slowly, tipping the eggs out of the pan and onto the slices of toast on a pair of plates on the counter. He carried them over to the table, and gestured to Tatara to sit down. “It was supposed to be an omelette.”

“You didn’t have to cook for me…” he protested weakly as he took a seat.

“You’ve done enough for me. Least I can do is feed you.”

“Thank you,” Tatara replied with a smile. “I didn’t know you could cook.”

“I can’t, really. It’s just hard to fuck up egg on toast.”

“I suppose,” he chuckled, then dug into the plateful in front of him.

“You don’t think the bike getting stolen has anything to do with the bullying?” Mikoto asked after a moment.

“It’s possible, I suppose, but the teasing and stuff has died right down now that the word got around that you beat someone up to protect me.”

“Good.”

“Good? You’ve got yourself a reputation as a thug, that’s hardly good… People already used to whisper about you being a member of a gang or something.”

Mikoto merely shrugged. “Don’t care. Why didn’t you tell me your bike got stolen? I could’ve got you a new one.”

“I couldn’t have paid you back for it.”

“’S no worries. Money’s not an issue.”

“It’s not like it’s just a meal or something, it was over twenty thousand yen…”

“I’m not short of cash.”

Tatara tilted his head. “I didn’t think you even had a job…?”

“My grandfather made sure I was set up.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was his only relative, so when he died all his stuff went to me. He had a lot of savings, and he left some money in stocks and stuff, to make sure I had enough to get by on until I left school.”

“Izumo mentioned you lived with your grandfather...” Tatara said quietly, trying to give him a gentle prompt to keep talking. He was painfully aware of how little he knew about Mikoto’s past; he savoured any glimpse he could get.

“Yeah, until he died when I was 12.”

“What about your parents? Were they in the picture?

“Never knew ‘em; didn’t even know their names. My grandfather wouldn’t tell me.”

“Why not?”

“He disowned my mother when I was a baby, said I was better off not knowing her,” he said with a shrug.

“So you were on your own from just 12 years old?”

“Mizuomi’s my godfather, so he kept an eye on me, made sure bills got paid and the fridge was full and stuff, but I wanted to stay in this house.”

“Mizuomi?”

“Kusanagi Mizuomi. Izumo’s uncle.”

Tatara nodded slowly. “Well, that’s good at least.”

“He was a bit distant though. His brother died a few years before, and he never got over it.”

“Yeah… Izumo told me his parents were attacked by the werewolf that bit you.”

Mikoto didn’t respond, and it seemed to Tatara that he’d hit a nerve, so he promptly changed the subject, deciding it was only fair if he offered up some information about his own past in exchange.

“I was adopted. My mother was a teenager when she got pregnant, and she put me up for adoption. The couple that took me in couldn’t have kids of their own. I never met my birth mother, but she sends me a birthday card every year, and my adoptive parents showed me pictures of her and told me stories about her. They said she was lovely, but she wanted to go to medical school so she didn’t have the time to raise me while she was studying.

“My adoptive parents were really nice too, and even though we didn’t have a lot of money we were happy, and they were really encouraging and loving, but when I was about six, my dad got into gambling to try and make some extra money, and it got out of hand… My mother divorced him after about a year; no matter what she did, she couldn’t get him to stop, and we were going bankrupt, so she left. I can’t blame her really, but I haven’t seen her since.”

If Tatara felt any sadness talking about it, it didn’t show on his face. Indeed, his voice had been inappropriately cheerful the whole time he’d been talking. Whether that was because it didn’t bother him, or because he didn’t want Mikoto to know it bothered him, it wasn’t entirely clear.

“My dad never did end up getting help for his gambling addiction, so he’s out of the house a lot, and we don’t normally have a lot of spare cash, but we manage.”

“Sounds like you’re making the situation seem better than it is.”

“We’re alright,” Tatara said reassuringly, but with little conviction.

“If you’re ever going hungry, let me know.” There was a tone of authority to Mikoto’s voice- it was clear he wouldn’t take no for an answer. “I dunno why you didn’t just ask for help with the bike in the first place.”

“I didn’t want to be a bother, and you had enough to worry about as it was. Besides, I was raised to be self-sufficient, you know?”

“Sounds like you weren’t really raised at all,” Mikoto pointed out.

“I guess, but you know what I mean.”

“Well, at least you didn’t turn out too messed up, considering.”

“Careful, that almost sounded like a compliment,” Tatara teased, grinning.

Mikoto rolled his eyes as he cleared away Tatara’s empty plate, and Tatara watched him with a pensive look on his face as he stood with his back turned, rinsing the plates in the sink. The mystery surrounding Mikoto’s parents had his interest piqued- it went some way to explain his closed-off personality- but really, the conversation had only provided one more little morsel of information, substantial enough to raise a dozen more questions whilst only really answering one. Tatara resigned himself to the knowledge that cracking open the rest of Mikoto’s story was likely to take some time, but if he was honest with himself, he didn’t really mind. Mikoto was the sort of person who was worth waiting for, after all.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter can also be found on [Tumblr.](http://mistleto-3.tumblr.com/post/155786024494/crying-for-the-moon-part-10)

As soon as Izumo saw Tatara leave their friend’s house the day after the full moon, he dropped Mikoto a text, asking him if he wanted to come over for a few drinks. It was the first opportunity he’d had to make good on his promise to Tatara, and it seemed that getting a little alcohol involved would make it an easier topic to broach. Mikoto accepted gratefully; full moons always took their toll, and Izumo knew a stiff drink would provide welcome relief.

Within five minutes, Mikoto arrived at the bar and let himself into Izumo’s room without announcing himself, sitting down on his desk chair.

“How ya doin’?” Izumo asked with a pleasant smile.

“Fine.”

“Ya don’t need to pretend to be fine, ya know. It’s just me.”

“Better than usual, at least.”

“Would a drink make ya feel any better?”

“I’m never gonna turn down free booze.”

Izumo chuckled as he pulled the bottle of whiskey he’d swiped from the bar downstairs out from under his desk, then poured them a glass each.

“What’s with the glasses? Don’t teenagers usually drink out of the bottle?” Mikoto raised an eyebrow, but he took a deep swig nonetheless.

“The Kusanagi family has a long and proud history of bartending; it would be an insult to my ancestors not to at least offer you a glass. Why, upset to be denied an indirect kiss?”

Mikoto merely gave a derisive snort in response.

“Ouch,” Izumo joked as he slid a packet of cigarettes out of his desk drawer and offered it to Mikoto, along with a lighter. As he slid the carton across the desk, he decided to take advantage of the neat segue. “Speaking of guys kissing other guys…”

In hindsight, the segue had sounded much neater in his head, and Izumo cringed slightly at his own bluntness, not that Mikoto seemed to care about that sort of thing. He pushed on regardless. “The rumours going around about your… _preferences_ seem to be pretty persistent, an’ I can’t help but be a little curious as your best friend. Forgive me if I’m intrudin’.”

Mikoto shrugged as he caught a cigarette between his lips and lit it. “Why do you wanna know? Got a crush?”

“Nah, I got my eye on that Awashima girl in our year. Just a little harmless curiosity is all.”

“Good. I’m out of your league.”

“Oi, stop avoiding the question,” Izumo said lightly. “I’m just curious ‘cause of all this talk goin’ around about you and Totsuka, especially ‘cause it’s not just talk anymore. Did he tell ya his bike got stolen?”

“Yeah, he did. We aren’t dating, if that’s what you mean.”

“Do ya wanna be?”

“What gave you that idea?”

“You do kinda come across as havin’ a crush on him, as much as someone as stoic as you can come across as havin’ a crush on anyone. And if ya do… well, Totsuka swings that way, just so you know, so there’s nothin’ stoppin’ ya.”

“I know.”

“Know what?”

“That Totsuka’s not straight.”

“How?”

“He told me.”

Izumo paused, confused by that. Tatara had seemed so shy about his crush; why would he tell Mikoto he was into guys? “Why’d he tell you that?”

“I told him I’m a werewolf.” Mikoto shrugged.

“I know that ain’t exactly how it went.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your story about tellin’ him doesn’t match up with his story about him sittin’ with ya all night while you were in wolf form. Twice, not includin’ last night. Ya don’t have to keep stuff from me, ya know.”

Mikoto shrugged. “Figured you’d tell me off for putting him in danger.”

“By the sounds of it, he put _himself_ in danger, and there wasn’t much you could do about it. So why’d he really tell you he wasn’t straight?”

“Clothes tend to tear off when you transform. We woke up, I was naked, he got bashful and told me ‘in the interest of full disclosure,’ in case I didn’t want him seeing my ass.”

“And what did you say?”

“If he has no issue with me turning into a monster, I have no issue with him looking at my ass.”

Izumo smiled at the joking response, but after a brief moment, his expression turned serious. “Do you really like him? Ya know I won’t judge if you do, an’ I won’t tell anyone. You know me; you’re practically my brother, an’ nothin’s gonna change that. Ya just seem… different lately. I’ve never seen you get into a fight like that before. Defending yourself, sure, but defending someone else?”

“They would’ve beaten the crap out of him, and he’s my friend.”

“Is he just your friend though? I’ve never seen ya open up like this before, not even with me.”

“You’re nosy.”

“Mikoto, seriously. Do you like him?”

Mikoto clicked his tongue. “What’s it matter if I do? He keeps me human; if I did like him, and I confessed and he got spooked, that’d leave me up shit creek.”

“He won’t run away.”

“How do you know?”

“I just know.” He desperately wanted to tell Mikoto that Tatara was head over heels for him, but alas, he’d made a promise.

Mikoto seemed to be about to protest, but at that moment, Izumo’s uncle called from the corridor: “Izumo, the cash register is playing up again. Can you nip down to the bar and fix it?”

“Alright,” Izumo replied, then turned to Mikoto. “I’ll just be a sec.”

Once Izumo had left, Mizuomi poked his head around the bedroom door. “Mikoto, good to see you. How are you doing?”

“Alright.”

“Do you mind if I talk to you about something?” He seemed to have either not noticed the stolen bottle of whiskey on the desk, or he simply didn’t care.

Mikoto nodded.

“I couldn’t help but overhear you and Izumo talking… You mentioned that that Totsuka boy ‘keeps you human.’ What do you mean by that, exactly?” He cut straight to the chase as he took a seat on Izumo’s mattress, lowering himself to Mikoto’s level. It was clear he wanted to get the conversation over with before Izumo returned.

“I normally don’t remember who I am on full moons. When Totsuka’s there, I do.”

A pensive look crossed Mizuomi’s face, somewhere between surprise and deep thought; clearly that information had some profound element to it that Mikoto wasn’t aware of.

“What?”

“From the information I’ve heard, there’s only ever one person who can control a werewolf, and they’re usually referred to as their true love.”

A crease formed between Mikoto’s eyebrows. _True love?_

He’d never been the sort of person who believed in any of that stuff; the idea that every person had a perfect match, a “one,” had always seemed like optimistic nonsense to him. Even when he’d been confronted with lycanthropy as a reality, he’d still never warmed up to the idea of fate. So, to hear that it was a possibility that a one “true love” really did exist, and that Tatara was his… Needless to say, it threw him a little.

“How do you know? Why wouldn’t my grandfather have told me this?” His tone was more defensive than he’d intended, but he couldn’t help but resist Mizuomi’s words. It seemed so ludicrous, but at the same time, he could feel himself hoping that what he was saying was true, regardless of the consequences that would have. He scolded himself internally for the thought.

“He wouldn’t have told you because… the reason we knew was because of your mother. She was the partner of a werewolf, and he remembered who he was around her, the way you remember who you are around Totsuka.”

“You knew my mother?” Mikoto pressed. Although he didn’t show it, his head was reeling at the prospect. He’d never even heard his mother _mentioned_ as he grew up; there were no photographs of her, and her existence was a taboo topic in his home- if ever he’d asked about her, or even brought her up, it had sent his grandfather into a shouting fit, so Mikoto had quickly learned to avoid the topic. He didn’t even know her name. A million questions sprang to his lips, but as he scrambled to decide which one he should ask first, the door opened, and Izumo returned.

“All sorted,” he declared, dusting his hands together.

“Thanks. I’ll leave you boys to it,” Mizuomi said with a polite smile, then he got to his feet and left the room. As the door clicked shut behind him, Mikoto was left with all those questions still bubbling on his tongue.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is very short, so I plan to post the next one tomorrow (17th Jan) rather than after the usual three days ^^
> 
> This chapter can also be found on [Tumblr.](http://mistleto-3.tumblr.com/post/155921233389/crying-for-the-moon-part-11)

_[Kusanagi Izumo: 22:07] Mikoto just left my place, and I’m 100% sure he’s in love with you._

Tatara had been hovering on the precipice of sleep when the vibration of his phone roused him, and he made a grab for it, opening one bleary eye to peer at the screen.

_He’s in love with you._

Suddenly, Tatara had never felt so awake in his life. Anxiety and cautious optimism and anticipation and doubt sent a shock like static through his body. The conflicting overload of emotions made him dizzy; an almost cold apprehension trickled through his abdomen, even though his head felt light with overjoyed disbelief, and his hands were shaking as he replied to Izumo’s message.

_[Totsuka Tatara: 22:08] How can you be sure?_

He couldn’t quite allow himself to believe it yet; if it was true, it would mean everything would change, and he didn’t know if he was ready for that.

_[Kusanagi Izumo: 22:10] I asked him if he liked you, and he kept changing the subject and he didn’t deny it, and eventually he started talking about “If I did like him.” Which in the language of Suoh Mikoto is as good as a confession._

Totsuka couldn’t bring himself to reply; by now his hands were shuddering so badly that everything he tried to type was illegible, and he couldn’t decide on what to say anyway. He was elated, and he was terrified; his pulse was thundering so fast that it was making him feel faint.

After a few minutes, Izumo seemed to have realised that Tatara wasn’t quite in a state to answer, so he sent another message through.

_[Kusanagi Izumo: 22:15] You do realise this means you gotta make good on your promise now, right?_

Relying heavily on autocorrect, Tatara managed to tap out a reply, though it took him considerably longer than it should have.

_[Totsuka Tatara: 22:17] Which promise?_

_[Kusanagi Izumo: 22:18] You said you’d ask him out if I asked him about his sexuality and established you have a shot. The romantic tension between you two is seriously starting to wear me out._

Tatara let out a shaky sigh at the prospect, but Izumo was right; their current situation was getting exhausting. The daydreams, the distraction, the butterflies in his stomach, the intrusive thoughts about kissing him, the way his heartbeat sped up and his tongue dried up in his mouth whenever he saw Mikoto, whenever someone even _mentioned_ him… it was wearing him thin. He felt like an addict; his craving for Mikoto’s time and attention and affection was starting to take over his life. He’d lost count of how many times he’d woken up from a dream about them being together and felt _crushed._ More than once, he’d lain in bed staring at the ceiling and the frustration and the longing had mounted to breaking point and he’d burst into tears. He thought he could cope with having a crush, but almost without him noticing, that crush had snowballed exponentially, until he loved him so much it _ached,_ and it was becoming harder to keep himself together with every passing day _._ And now he was being made to accept that the anxiety he felt about making that leap and asking him out was worth putting an end to all that. Especially when he had confirmation that it might actually be worth something now. And to be perfectly honest, he was glad his hand was being forced- he didn’t know if he’d have the courage otherwise.

_[Totsuka Tatara: 22:21] Okay_

Was all he could muster in reply.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter can also be found on [Tumblr.](http://mistleto-3.tumblr.com/post/155996454509/crying-for-the-moon-part-12)

Mikoto hadn’t been able to shake what had been said at Izumo’s place all week. Izumo speaking as though he was so convinced Tatara reciprocated his feelings was bad enough, but Mizuomi’s comments were a whole different ball game. Although it had come as something as a surprise to find out that Tatara really did have feelings for him, it didn’t take him long to process. In hindsight, it all added up; Tatara’s behaviour had been slightly off for months, and while Mikoto had assumed that he was just a bit bemused to learn that his best friend was a werewolf, he supposed a crush was an equally plausible explanation. And while that prospect both excited him and made him nervous, it sort of paled in comparison to what Mizuomi had said. If the crush had been the only revelation he’d had that night, it likely would have eaten away at him, but the shadow of everything else that had been said that evening made it almost seem insignificant.

The prospect of them being each other’s _true love_ , for instance, was slightly more daunting than a simple crush. Mikoto had never even kissed anyone before- he’d never had any interest in forming that kind of relationship with someone, so to make the leap from being a bachelor to meeting his true love was… intimidating to say the least. Mikoto had never even come close to dealing with that kind of commitment before. He’d never been able to imagine himself married or with kids, and up until recently, he’d never even considered the prospect of being in a relationship with someone; it just seemed like a really efficient way of putting someone in danger, or making himself vulnerable. Besides, he wasn’t exactly the type who opened up to people the way one was supposed to open up to their significant other. And then Tatara had come along and blown a gaping hole in all of that.

What if he messed up? Even if he wasn’t a danger to Tatara on full moons, Mikoto had no idea what a successful relationship entailed, so he was almost entirely convinced he’d manage to screw it up to an immense degree and either send Tatara running for the hills, or hurt him deeply, or both. Which, if it was anyone else, wouldn’t be the end of the world. But he didn’t know what he’d do without Tatara; in a few short months, he’d come to depend on him more than he’d ever depended on anyone else, and now apparently, Tatara was supposedly “the one”. Losing him would be catastrophic, and Mikoto was almost convinced that’d be how it ended up if he pushed their relationship any further.

All of those thoughts knocking around in his head had left him distracted enough as it was, but on top of all of that, the thousands of questions spinning amongst them about his mother only made things a hundred times worse. He hadn’t allowed himself to be curious about her since he was about seven years old; by that point, he’d been scolded for asking about her enough times to have given it up as a lost cause, so this was the first glimpse he’d had into who she was in his entire life.

And she’d been in love with a werewolf. Above all, Mikoto couldn’t help but wonder why Mizuomi hadn’t bothered to tell him this until now. He’d been living under the belief that every full moon would be the same: he’d wake up in the morning praying nobody had died because of him. He had no idea there was another way, that one day, someone might come along who could ease that fear. He thought perhaps the radio silence had had something to do with his grandfather’s insistence that his mother was never mentioned, but he’d been dead for almost a decade now, and what he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him.

Understandably, what little information Mikoto had finally been given about his mother, he’d latched onto. He’d suppressed his curiosity about her for so long that, now it finally had something to feed off, it had gone into a sort of frenzy, and he found himself dwelling on theories about her against his will. Was the werewolf she was in love with his father? Had she been disowned because of him? Had her partner’s lycanthropy been the reason she’d given Mikoto away? Was she even still alive?

And it wasn’t help that, on top of _that_ , Tatara seemed off. He’d been jittery all week, getting startled every time someone said his name, and finding half-hearted excuses not to be alone with Mikoto. He almost seemed scared of something; he was so jumpy, and he wouldn’t stop talking. It wasn’t his usual chatter either, a stream of small talk designed to keep Mikoto’s thoughts off his troubles; it was hurried, only partially-coherent nervous babble, and as the week neared its close, Mikoto had started to become concerned about him, which only added to the stack of worries clawing at him for attention. It didn’t seem like a coincidence either that Tatara had begun to act so strangely immediately after Mikoto’s conversation with Izumo, and he had his suspicions that Izumo had told Tatara he had feelings for him; even though Mikoto had never admitted it explicitly, he supposed what he’d said had been as good as a confession. Not that Mikoto had it in him to care- it wasn’t like he’d told Izumo to keep it a secret or anything, he just didn’t need to be worrying about Tatara alongside the million other things on his mind.

The constant distraction as a result of all of that was starting to get frustrating, and clearly Izumo had noticed the change in him and was becoming concerned. As they walked home from school a few days after the full moon, Izumo had asked him if anything was wrong, and of course Mikoto had lied, not wanting to get into the details of what Mizuomi had said.

“Nothing. Totsuka’s just acting weird,” he said, then changed the subject.

Really, Mikoto was desperate to talk to someone about his mother, but he couldn’t do that without revealing what had been said about Tatara, and admitting that his friend was supposedly his _true love_ was about fifteen strides too far over the boundaries he’d drawn for himself. He still hadn’t really wrapped his head around the prospect- when he thought about it, it just sounded like fairy tale bullshit, like a princess being woken by true love’s kiss, and monsters were never the ones who got happy endings in fairy tales.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter can also be found on [ Tumblr](http://mistleto-3.tumblr.com/post/156138059734/crying-for-the-moon-part-13).

The prospect of fulfilling his promise to Izumo had left Tatara a complete wreck of anxiety. He’d been struggling to figure out how to go about it ever since he’d been reminded of it, not to mention the questions of when and where- he didn’t want to do it over the phone, or at school, or on a full moon. It had to be _right,_ and he was willing to wait for the perfect opportunity (or at least, that’s what he told himself to justify putting it off).

But as much as he was terrified and in no rush to bite the bullet, he also sort of wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible, just so he could stop feeling like this. He was painfully aware of how obvious his nervousness was- he was stuttering, shaking, blushing, and generally making a fool of himself whenever Mikoto was around, and he was 100% convinced that people had started to notice- Izumo kept giving him concerned glances and asking if he was okay, and even Mikoto was raising his eyebrow at him questioningly every time he stumbled over his words. It was _humiliating,_ and it only made him more frustrated with the fact that he couldn’t think of a proper time, place, or manner to fulfil his promise, because the constant awkwardness was making him want to tear his hair out.

It had only been a few days by the time an opportunity presented itself, but they had been the most unbearable few days of Tatara’s life, and by then, he was willing to promise himself that he’d rip the band aid off that evening- his father spent almost every Friday night without fail at a rather shady casino until the early hours of the morning, so Tatara would have the house to himself. Not that he had any illicit intentions, but he’d rather have a measure of privacy if he was going to go through with it. If it went well, he didn’t want his father walking in on him making out with his new boyfriend (boyfriend… that was an interesting concept)- he wasn’t even aware his son wasn’t straight. And if it didn’t… well, he imagined it would be quite ugly, and he’d rather cry in peace.

Tatara spent the entire day working himself up to invite Mikoto over- he rehearsed what he was going to say hundreds of times in his head, even though the invitation would only be the first, tiny hurdle. Asking Mikoto to come over to his home was nothing compared to what he’d have to do _after._ Sure, Mikoto had never seen the inside of his house before, but it wasn’t like they hadn’t spent a sizeable amount of time hanging out alone at Mikoto’s together, so doing the same in a different venue shouldn’t have been so daunting. But because of what he planned to ask when they got there, even just inviting him to hang out had suddenly become an almost impossibly scary task.

When school finally finished at the end of what had been the longest day Tatara had persevered through, he spotted Mikoto on the way out of the gates and called out to him.

At the sound of his name, Mikoto paused and turned back to look at his friend, who was jogging to catch up with him. At the sight of his face, Tatara could feel his pulse starting to race again, and his cheeks began to burn. The invite he’d been practicing all day suddenly seemed to smudge in his head like ink written on a sweating palm, his throat dried up, and the full-blown panic he’d managed to hold off all day set in all at once…

The next thing Tatara knew, Mikoto’s hand was closed around his arm to keep him upright- in his flustered state, he’d stumbled over nothing, almost sending himself careening towards the tarmac. Mikoto didn’t release his grip until he seemed convinced Tatara was steady on his feet again.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, fine.”

“I mean in general; you’re acting weird.”

“I’m fine. Do you want to come over to my place for a bit today?” Tatara blurted out the words as quickly as he could, almost without having intended to say them. He just needed this to be over with. “My dad isn’t home, and you haven’t seen my place…” he tacked on haphazardly.

“Uh, sure.”  

Tatara let out a slow breath, trying to calm himself. “Great.”

Despite having made the first step, he didn’t feel any more relaxed; if everything else was going to go this badly, he didn’t see his endeavour ending well.

“Want a ride?” Mikoto offered.

“H-huh?”

“On my bike.”

“Oh, sure.”

Tatara cursed internally as he followed Mikoto to where his bike was parked; the last thing he needed was the proximity necessitated by sitting on the back of his motorcycle. He did his best to keep a straight face as he donned the helmet that Mikoto offered him (since the first time Mikoto had given him a ride, he’d bought a spare), then took a deep breath to steady himself before climbing on behind him and wrapping his arms around his waist. In the back of his mind, Tatara was vaguely aware that doing something like this somewhere as public as the school’s car park was probably ill-advised and would likely just throw tinder on the rumours about them that were finally beginning to die down, but at that moment, he couldn’t bring himself to care. He was far more concerned with the warmth of Mikoto’s body pressed against his own, and the smell of his skin and his soap and leather and cigarette smoke and the way all those sensations were only muddling his already disjointed thoughts even further in his head. And as for what was going to happen when they got back to his house… Tatara did his best to put it out of his mind.

Thankfully, the bike’s engine quickly roared to life, and once they’d set off, the brisk air rushing past as they rode provided a measure of distraction, but only briefly. By the time they reached Tatara’s home, his hands were so shaky that it took him a few seconds to get the key in the lock.

Once they were inside, Tatara gave Mikoto a brief tour of the house, but didn’t go into much more detail than pointing out which rooms were where. The place was small and cramped and cluttered, but there was a feeling of Tatara about the place- paraphernalia associated with his everchanging hobbies was stacked haphazardly on bookshelves and on top of chests of drawers, and it made the place seem lived-in and almost cosy, despite that the house was otherwise cold and evidently quite run-down.

Tatara finished the tour in his bedroom and sat heavily on the mattress as he stuffed his school bag under his bed.

“Totsuka. You sure you’re okay?” Mikoto asked, taking a seat beside him.

 _Too close._ The fabric of their school trousers hissed softly as their knees brushed together.

“Yeah… Just had a lot on my mind lately,” Tatara replied.

“Like?”

“Like… the rumours going around about us, I guess…” He took a deep, shaky breath as he finished the sentence. He’d made the segue into the conversation, now all he had to do was follow it through. That would be easier said than done, though; his heart was thundering so quickly that his chest ached and his head started to feel a little airy. He was almost afraid Mikoto would hear his pulse, or that he’d faint.

“You worried someone’s gonna try and hurt you again?”

“No, no, nothing like that… I trust you to protect me,” he said softly, trying to force a smile, but he was still shaking. “Besides, they’re dying down now anyway.”

Mikoto nodded, snaking an arm around Tatara’s shoulders and rubbing his arm comfortingly to try and soothe the waves of trembling that wracked his body, the way Tatara always did for him when he transformed. Tatara tucked himself against Mikoto’s side gratefully, taking comfort in the warmth, and for a brief moment, it sort of worked, until Mikoto slowly turned his head to meet Tatara’s eyes. There was a sort of intensity behind those hazel irises that Tatara had never seen before.

The room was silent for a few seconds, and the quiet was so pregnant with unspoken words that Tatara had to break it or he thought he’d go mad. He took a deep, shuddering breath, almost unnaturally loud against the hush, and then whispered:

“I-I want them to be true.”

Internally, he was searching frantically for something else to say, something more profound than the simple, six-word sentence, something that encapsulated the longing and anxiety that had saturated his every thought for months, something that could get across the way he loved him so much it made his very core ache.

As Mikoto watched Tatara’s mouth open and close wordlessly, a tiny but genuine smile curled the corners of his lips that only made his friend’s thoughts stick harder in his throat.

Another moment passed before Mikoto finally seemed to give up on waiting for whatever it was Tatara wanted to say. With a soft, affectionate sigh, he cupped Tatara’s jaw with his palm, gently brushing his cheek with the pad of his thumb as he leaned in slowly, until Tatara could feel the whisper of his breath against his lips.

Tatara hadn’t really dared to dwell too much on this kind of scenario, but he’d half-expected he’d simply crumble to pieces if it ever actually happened. But at the soft touch of Mikoto’s lips against his own, the tension tumbled out of his body, his trembling stilled, and the anxiety that had simmered in the pit of his stomach for months seemed to simply blow away like a ribbon of smoke. When Mikoto kissed him, all of it vanished. All of the fear and the tension and the constant feeling of being on edge trickled away until there was nothing of it left, nothing but the warmth of Mikoto’s mouth pressed tenderly against his own. His arms wound their way around Mikoto’s shoulders, pulling their bodies closer together until they were pressed flush against one another. He decided he never wanted to let go of this warmth.

Tatara didn’t know how long the kiss drew on for, but by the time they broke apart, he could feel his cheeks burning, and static crackled in every one of his nerves. His heart was racing again, but for a different reason than earlier.

If the words had been stuck in Tatara’s throat before, now, they tumbled freely past his lips. He hadn’t even meant to say it out loud, but he heard himself whisper:

“I love you…”

And then Mikoto’s lips were crushed against his own again before he even had a chance to register what he’d just said. The second kiss was just as tender and innocent as the first, but it was deeper, more desperate, fuelled by the months of desperate pining and heartache and confusion and tension that had been building up and building up and now, _finally_ , had been unleashed. Mikoto’s fingers combed through Tatara’s hair as the other arm wrapped around his waist, swallowing him up almost protectively in his embrace, and Tatara felt tears of relief stinging his eyes and spilling over his lashes.

When the kiss finally broke, neither made any move to draw away from each other; they remained with their foreheads pressed together, their lips hovering less than an inch apart as Mikoto murmured:

“I love you too.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is also available on [Tumblr. ](http://mistleto-3.tumblr.com/post/156271199574/crying-for-the-moon-part-14)
> 
> It's exam season, so I'm a little swamped this week! So I'm gonna delay the next chapter until all my exams are finished on the 28th rather than the usual 3 day schedule, and hopefully that should take some pressure off. Thank you for your patience!

Tatara lost track of time after that; the sun had just been beginning to set when they had arrived at his home, and now it was almost completely dark. He’d been perfectly content to allow the hours to slip by lying in Mikoto’s arms, stealing soft kiss after soft kiss, and Mikoto seemed more than happy to indulge him. They’d barely spoken, but they hadn’t felt the need to. Not that Tatara could think of anything to say anyway; his head was light, and his only coherent thought was disbelief. It felt so surreal to be lying there as lovers rather than friends, to finally be able to indulge the urge to kiss him that he’d had to suppress for so long, to know the warm, chapped lips pressed to his own and the arms wound around him really belonged to _Mikoto.._. He’d gotten so used to craving this that he couldn’t quite wrap his head around the fact it was really _happening_.

It was an immense relief to finally spend time with him without battling the constant anxiety of suppressing his feelings about him; now, every time he wanted to kiss him, he just… did it. It was an immense privilege. And even though those desires reared up every few seconds, Mikoto didn’t seem to mind- he was doing his fair share of initiating the kisses himself, and the way he held Tatara against him, tenderly, but almost possessively, suggested he didn’t plan to let go of him any time soon. Tatara savoured every second of it, drinking in the warmth of Mikoto’s body, how gentle, almost reverent, his touch was as he ran his hands up and down Tatara’s back and combed his fingers through his hair, trying to commit to memory the soft look in his eyes- it was the first time Tatara had ever seen Mikoto look at anything like that- his lids drooping low over his irises with affection as the subtlest of smiles played across his lips. The smell of his skin, the tickle of his breath against Tatara’s lips, the tenderness of his kisses… Tatara never wanted this to end.

He still wasn’t used to the idea that this was his now, that he could have this whenever he wanted. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to it, to be perfectly honest. Tatara couldn’t help but wonder if Mikoto felt the same way, and it took a few seconds to occur to him that he could just ask him; there was nothing stopping him now.

When their kiss broke, Tatara looked up at him and murmured: “I’ll never get used to this.”

“Me neither.”

“…Mikoto?”

“Hmm?”

“How long have you felt like this for?”

“Since the first full moon.”

Tatara giggled. “Really?”

“Mhmm.”

“That was when I fell for you too~.”

Mikoto stole another kiss, and Tatara could feel him smiling against his lips.

“I was so nervous about telling you. I don’t really know why anymore, though. I’ve never been this happy. My cheeks hurt from grinning.”

“Me neither.”

This time it was Tatara who sneaked a kiss, and when it broke, he let out a contented sigh before pulling his phone from his back pocket to check the time. He’d left it on silent all afternoon- he hadn’t wanted any interruptions- and now he finally deigned to check it, he found he had quite the stream of texts from Izumo.

_[Kusanagi Izumo: 16:04] I saw you and Mikoto leaving school together. Good luck._

_[Kusanagi Izumo: 16:49] I take it the radio silence means it’s going well?_

_[Kusanagi Izumo: 17:07] Update me when you’re done professing your undying love or whatever._

_[Kusanagi Izumo: 17:31] Jeez you’ve been gone for a while. Hope you’re being safe ;)_

At that point, Tatara shut off his phone screen, feeling his cheeks heat up.

“What?”

“Kusanagi…” Tatara sighed and showed him the messages. “J-just as a disclaimer, I never had any of the kind of intentions he’s suggesting!”

Mikoto chuckled, and the sound was the closest to a proper laugh that Tatara had ever heard from him. “If you’d wanted to make a move you’d’ve done it by now.” He ruffled his hair reassuringly. “He’s been meddling with you too?”

“Yeah… He asked me if I had feelings for you, and then he kept trying to persuade me to go for it… he actually offered to find out if you swung that way for me, but only if I agreed to ask you out if you did.”

“He was pestering me too.”

“I’m glad he did though.”

“Mm,” Mikoto agreed, then kissed him once more.

“I should probably reply to him before he gets any more wild ideas.”

“Good plan.”

_[Totsuka Tatara: 17:34] There’s no funny business going on! We’re just kissing, it’s purely PG-rated._

“I told him we got together. Figured he’d find out sooner or later.”

_We’re together._

The thought made Tatara’s heart swell.

Mikoto nodded in agreement, and then Tatara’s phone buzzed again.

_[Kusanagi Izumo: 17:35] Finally! Congrats, took you guys long enough._

Tatara showed Mikoto the message, and Mikoto rolled his eyes.

“’S like he wanted us to get together more than we did.”

“I’m not sure I’d go that far. I did want us to get together quite a lot~.”

Once again, Mikoto kissed him.

“We ought to go on a date,” Tatara blurted out suddenly- he wasn’t sure where the idea came from, but once it was out in the open, he decided it had been quite a good idea.

“What kinda date?”

“I don’t know just… I just wanna walk around the town on your arm and feel smug about myself.”

Mikoto chuckled. “Sure,” then he paused. “You sure you wanna be seen together like that in public?”

Tatara’s face fell.

“Don’t think I’m ashamed or anythin’. Just don’t wanna fuel any rumours and get you hurt. It was just luck that I was there before somethin’ bad happened last time.”

“I don’t care if people know. I’m not scared of a few bullies,” Tatara said light-heartedly. “I’m dating a werewolf; I’m not scared of anything.”

Mikoto rolled his eyes. “If I get suspended for havin’ to beat someone up again, I’m blaming you.”

“I don’t think anyone would dare pick another fight, after what happened last time. Besides, I’m a proclaim-it-from-the-rooftops sort of guy,” Tatara said sheepishly.

“I noticed.”

“How do you expect me to sit on a secret like that anyway? I’m pretty sure almost every girl in the school, probably a few of the boys too, either has or has at some point had a crush on you, and you’re mine. I’m allowed to be proud of that, aren’t I?”

Mikoto raised an eyebrow doubtfully. “I think ‘almost every’ is an exaggeration.”

“You’d be surprised. You’ve got that classic bad boy look about you- you ride a motorcycle, you never follow the dress code, you smoke, you’re all mysterious… You’re the kind of guy every girl wants to tame. And I was the one who did it~.” There was a definite air of smugness in Tatara’s voice as he spoke, to which Mikoto sighed and tousled his hair.

After few more stolen kisses, the pair set out towards the town on Mikoto’s motorcycle, and found the only café still open that late in the evening. They both bought some food, and Tatara ordered the biggest mug of hot chocolate they sold. As he tried to take a sip, the tower of whipped cream floating atop the liquid caught him on the nose, and Mikoto chuckled at the surprised look on his face as he crossed his eyes to stare in offense at the white dollop on his face. The pair had nestled themselves away in one of the booths at the back of the establishment, and the place was quiet- on a Friday night, most people out in the town preferred to spend their money in the bars- so they were granted some blessed privacy. Which Tatara took full advantage of, all too happy to tuck himself beneath Mikoto’s arm to share his body heat- even inside, it took him a while to shake off the January chill. In return, Mikoto kissed away the moustache of cream that had accumulated on Tatara’s top lip.

When their drinks were empty, and the lady behind the counter appeared to be getting restless to close up the shop, the pair made their exit and found themselves wandering in the vague direction of the park, neither of them quite ready to return home yet. As they walked, the back of Tatara’s hand brushed Mikoto’s, and their fingers twined instinctively without either of them being completely sure who had initiated the contact. Tatara watched his breath mist into ribbons in front of his lips, but every so often, he couldn’t resist glancing up at Mikoto, and every time he did, he caught him staring at him with a gentle look in his eyes that made Tatara’s heartbeat trip in his chest. Each glance reminded him that this really was happening, Mikoto really did love him back, and had him biting down on his own tongue every so often, just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

After a slow stroll into the park, they found a bench by the pond and took a seat, and Mikoto wound his arm around Tatara’s shoulder, staring out at the pair of swans glided across the black water, the ripples rolling outwards from their movements glittering in the yellow lamplight. Up until they’d arrived here, they’d fallen into their usual habit of Tatara chattering away as Mikoto listened, but now they sat in quiet, until finally Mikoto spoke:

“Are you gonna tell your dad?”

“I don’t think I could hide it,” Tatara replied light-heartedly.

“What’ll he think?”

“I don’t know… we don’t really talk about this kind of stuff. He knows you exist as my friend and stuff, but he doesn’t know the extent of everything, obviously. He’s never said anything that’d make me think he’d be opposed to having a less-than-straight son, but it’s never come up I suppose. He’s usually pretty tolerant, though; he just lets me do as I please really, so I can’t see him being _un_ happy about it, or obstructive or anything like that.”

Mikoto nodded slowly.

“He doesn’t take a great deal of interest in my life… Not that he’s neglectful or anything, he’s very loving when he’s around, but he isn’t around an awful lot, is all. I don’t mind though.”

“Well, if you’re ever lonely.” Mikoto didn’t need to finish the sentence; Tatara understood the offer, and kissed him thankfully on the cheek.

“…So I just wanna make, like, absolutely certain. We’re officially together now, right?” The words tasted foreign on Tatara’s tongue, but the sound of them sent an irresistible grin spreading across his lips.

“Mmhm.” Mikoto’s response was brief as always, but Tatara could see the flicker of a smile on his face at the sound of the word, and he couldn’t help but kiss him again.  

“…Are you getting cold?” Tatara asked after a moment, even though it was him shivering, not Mikoto.

“Want to go home?”

“Mm. Back to mine?”

Mikoto raised an eyebrow suspiciously.

“What? I have no illicit intentions. I just think it’d be nice to spend the entire night with you in human form. As cute as you are as a dog, you smell better like this.”

Mikoto chuckled. “Sure.”

* * *

 

When they arrived home, the first thing Tatara did was change into his pyjamas and scramble under the covers- the chill of the late January air rushing past as they’d rode home had seeped through his skin, and he was grateful when Mikoto discarded his shirt and climbed in beside him- he seemed impervious to the cold, and Tatara eagerly snuggled up to his side, soaking in the heat emanating from his body. He found himself with his head resting on Mikoto’s chest, and the sound of his heartbeat was immensely soothing.

“We should do that more often,” Tatara piped up. “Maybe when it’s less cold though. Or at least, until then, go to inside places, like a restaurant or something, or a movie, you know, all the cliché stuff. Or an onsen, or an amusement park, I’ve always wanted to go to one, rollercoasters look like great fun, and a zoo…” Tatara had to cut himself off to stop himself reeling off ideas for dates he’d spent the past few months daydreaming about. “Cuddling at home is good too, though. Any time I spend with you is good; I had a wonderful time tonight.”  

“Mm,” Mikoto agreed. There was a moment of silence, and then he spoke again, softly. “’S the first time I’ve felt normal in a while.”

Despite Mikoto’s deliberate nonchalant tone, the weight of the confession was undeniable, and it caught Tatara off guard. It was rare for Mikoto to talk about his feelings at all- the only insights into his thoughts he’d ever offered had been a few snippets on the mornings after full moons, when his guard was down. Everything else, Tatara had had to glean for himself. Evidently, Mikoto had thought it was important that Tatara knew that, and he felt his chest tighten at the thought. By now, the chill had diffused from his body, and he’d relaxed into his lover’s arms, tightening his grip around him in appreciation of the confession.

“Good. Then we’ll spend as much time together as you like.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter can also be found on Tumblr
> 
> Thank you for your patience on this chapter! I'll probably have to slow down the posting schedule a little because rarepair week is kicking my butt lmao, but I'm aiming for a chapter every 4 days now exams are over ^^

The sight of Tatara riding into school on the back of Mikoto’s motorcycle on Monday morning turned quite a few heads, and he saw a number of people whispering to their friends and casting sideways glances over their shoulders at the pair as they dismounted the bike and removed their helmets. Seeing as Tatara had left his bicycle at school the previous Friday, Mikoto had offered him a lift to class, though it wasn’t as though they hadn’t been going the same way- Mikoto had spent the entire weekend at Tatara’s place, with the exception of an outing to a romantic restaurant on the Saturday evening. Not that Mikoto was much the type for that kind of clichéd lovey-dovey stuff, but he knew Tatara was a sap for it, so he’d suggested the date without complaining (though only after asking Izumo where the best place to take him was, as he wasn’t especially familiar with the romantic restaurant scene.)

“People are looking at us,” Tatara pointed out as he passed Mikoto the helmet he’d borrowed, struggling to hide a smile as he spoke. Even with the quiet worry that there would be another incident like the one that had gotten Mikoto suspended, it was far outweighed by his pride to be seen with his new partner.

“Good,” Mikoto replied simply as he locked up his bike, then slid his arm around Tatara’s shoulder as they walked towards the school building. Tatara felt his cheeks heat up as the stares directed at them grew more incredulous, but he couldn’t help but feel a little smug as he wound his arm around Mikoto’s waist. 

His blush only deepened as Izumo caught sight of them and made his way towards them with a smirk on his face, applauding as he did so.

“Well there’s a sight for sore eyes. Do ya know how long I’ve been waitin’ for you two to finally get it over with and admit ya like each other? The suspense was killin’ me,” he said playfully, then clapped Mikoto on the shoulder. “Congrats, you two.”

“Thanks,” Tatara replied bashfully. “And thanks for giving me the kick up the butt I needed to do something about it,” he added, with a sincere expression on his face.

“Aw, shucks, you’re gonna make me all emotional. C’mon you lovebirds, it’s almost time for class.”

Izumo spent the entirety of the walk towards the school building pestering them for details about the weekend, and Tatara shot Mikoto a sympathetic look as they neared his classroom as an apology for leaving him alone with their friend’s rabid curiosity. When they reached his homeroom, he bid them both goodbye, but as he turned to open the door, Mikoto caught him by the elbow and stole a brief kiss before allowing him to wander giddily into the class, unable to suppress the grin on his face.

As he took his seat, still beaming at the blackboard, Tatara felt something light bounce off the side of his head- a crumpled ball of paper- and he looked questioningly in the direction it had flown from to see the girl sitting at the desk beside his looking at him expectantly. Her name was Sakura, and she always kept her brown hair tied into braids with pink bows. He wouldn’t have called her his friend, but they spoke occasionally, and they’d worked on a few group projects together.  

“Hmm?”

“Totsuka-san…” she seemed a little nervous, fiddling with the hem of her sleeve as she spoke. “I’m sorry, this is probably really inappropriate, but I couldn’t help but be curious… Are you and Suoh-senpai an item?”

“Oh, um, yeah, we are,” he said with a sheepish smile, but he felt his stomach fall; this was the part he hadn’t been looking forward to, the inevitable backlash.

But, to his surprise, Sakura smiled. “I thought so, congratulations. You make a cute couple, and it’s brave of you to be so open about it, especially after what happened before… I think the whole school heard about the fight Suoh-senpai got into with the boy who tried to attack you.”

Tatara felt another grin creeping across his face; her reaction was the last thing he’d expected. “Thank you…. It seems like everyone’s heard different versions of that story though,” he said with a chuckle, rubbing the back of his head.

“It’s still encouraging that you didn’t let it get you down…” Suddenly, an odd look crossed Sakura’s face, and she glanced around to see if anyone was listening to their conversation, before lowering her voice. “I’ve sort of had this crush on Hyuuga-san for months, but I never wanted to say anything because I didn’t know how she’d react… Or how everyone else would react.” As she spoke, Tatara could see her gaze wandering over to the girl sitting at her desk near the front of the room- the class president with sleek black hair and red glasses.

“I can see why you like her, she’s pretty. And if you’re worried about how people will react, they stop caring after a while. It’s only been a few weeks or so since the rumours about Mikoto and I started, and people have already lost interest for the most part. And Hyuuga-san has never been the type of person to judge someone for their sexuality- I’ve seen her tell people off for spreading rumours about me. The worst she can say is no, you ought to go for it,” Tatara replied in a whisper

“You’re right…”

“Let me know how it goes, if you decide to?”

She nodded, offering him a grateful smile, and Tatara replied with a grin, before their teacher entered the room to give the morning announcements, cutting off their exchange.

* * *

 

As the day went on, Tatara was continually surprised at how right he’d been when he said people stopped caring- even with the fresh gossip, and how openly affectionate they’d been on school grounds, it was evident that the ever-fickle student body had, for the most part, become disinterested in Tatara’s relationship status, having moved onto new, more interesting rumours. Only one person shouted at him across the hallway- no more than before their relationship had gone public. If anything, the response he received was mostly positive- a few girls approached him and expressed their jealousy that Mikoto was off the market, and he received a few congratulations throughout the day, a couple of comments on his bravery, and one or two slightly uncomfortable compliments on how hot they were together, but that was pretty much the worst of it. It was definitely encouraging to see how well people reacted in the end, especially considering how badly he’d been treated before he and Mikoto had even gotten together. Not that fear of how his peers would react would have stopped Tatara, but it certainly made things easier; as he’d said to Mikoto, he was the sort who didn’t like to hide his feelings, and it was a comfort to know that he could express his love openly, without fear of reprisal.

Indeed, the only real act of intolerance he saw all week was in the changing rooms before PE- a boy approached him with a threatening expression, dishing out veiled threats of what the consequences would be if Tatara’s eyes wandered in the changing room.

“Don’t worry,” Tatara replied, with an easy smile and the most patronising saccharine tone he could muster. “You aren’t my type.” As he spoke, his eyes dropped to look his classmate up and down in exaggerated distaste.

The boy didn’t seem to know how to react, pausing for a moment and stuttering furiously as the people around them who had heard the comeback sniggered, before deciding that the appropriate response was rage. He stepped forward, as though to grab Tatara by the collar of his shirt, but Tatara merely continued to smile nonchalantly, completely unafraid.

“What’s wrong with you, freak?” the boy snarled.

“Don’t you remember what happened to the last guy who tried to beat me up? It’d be a shame if your nose got broken, your face has such a nice profile,” he said casually, his tone of voice as innocent and non-threatening as he could make it.  

The boy gritted his teeth, shooting Tatara a venomous glare, but then turned and skulked back over to where he’d been getting changed, clearly not too keen on his odds should he have decided to pick a fight with a man who was a year his senior and had almost half a foot in height on him. Tatara rolled his eyes as he walked away, then turned around to retrieve his PE uniform from his bag, smiling as the boy beside him murmured:

“Nice job.”

Mikoto’s response had been similar when Tatara told him of the incident that lunch, though it clearly left a sour taste in his mouth that Tatara’s witty response had been necessary at all.

Izumo, meanwhile, seemed less concerned- he was still chuckling at Tatara’s retelling of the story. “Must be nice having such a scary-lookin’ guy as your partner, huh.”

“Comes in handy, sometimes,” Tatara replied with a smile. To be perfectly honest, though, he didn’t get what people found so intimidating about Mikoto- he looked a little rough around the edges perhaps, and he wasn’t the type you’d want to get into a fight with (though to be fair, his lycanthropy gave him something of an unfair advantage; his strength was a little superhuman at times), but Tatara couldn’t see him as anything other than a big puppy dog. Though perhaps that was just because he was the only person who really got to see that side of him, which was a privilege Tatara was proud to be able to claim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: To make up for pausing this fic for rarepair week, I've written a short fluffy Chiho/Sakura oneshot titled _[Go For It](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9617708)_ which takes place in this universe, shortly after Tatara and Sakura's exchange in this chapter ^^


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter can also be found on [Tumblr.](http://mistleto-3.tumblr.com/post/156713117539/crying-for-the-moon-part-16)

Mikoto regarded Tatara with a questioning look as he brandished a two-man tent folded up in its bag, which was still covered in a film of dust from whatever cupboard it had evidently been stuffed in for a few years. It was the morning of the full moon, and Tatara had showed up at Mikoto’s with a backpack full of camping paraphernalia and an excited look in his eyes, proposing that the pair go up onto the hillside and spend the night in the woods.

“It’s February. It’ll barely be above freezing,” Mikoto pointed out.

“It’s not like it’ll bother you- you’ve got a big fur coat. And I’ll be fine.”

Mikoto rolled his eyes. “I dunno why you wanna do this.”

“Wild animals should be outside, not cooped up in a house. Besides, I haven’t been camping in ages, and I wanna toast some marshmallows.”

As much as Mikoto resisted, Tatara knew he was secretly fond of his schemes, and predictably, he quickly gave in.

“Fine.”

* * *

 

The pair began the trek up into the hills in the afternoon before the chill had begun to set in, and the weak winter sunlight still filtered through the gaps in the cloud. Tatara was positively brimming with excitement, and he spent the entirety of the uphill hike through the forest chattering away excitedly, seemingly without breaking a sweat. He’d been daydreaming about things the pair could do together for months, and now he finally had an opportunity to put one of his date ideas into practice, he was evidently seizing it by the horns.

It was about an hour into their trek that they finally reached the clearing Tatara had been leading them towards, a small gap in the trees that was filled with wildflowers during the warmer months, far enough out of the way that nobody was likely to find them. Tatara promptly busied himself putting up the tent and filling it with blankets while Mikoto gathered a small heap of firewood and dumped it in the middle of the clearing. He then took a seat on the picnic blanket Tatara had laid out across the grass and watched him potter about, setting up the last few things.

“How much did you bring?” The backpacks Tatara had brought seemed deceptively small for the sheer amount of stuff he’d managed to lug up the hillside with them.

“Enough~,” Tatara replied, fishing out a box of matches from his pocket and setting about lighting the fire. It took a little while to get it to cooperate, but eventually, he managed to nurse a small flame to life, and by then, it was beginning to get dark, and the amber glow of the flames cast flickering shadows across the treeline. Mikoto had become a little subdued as the horizon began to darken from blue to gold- the change in his mood was almost imperceptible, but Tatara knew him well enough by now to pick up on it, and he recognised the pattern. Even without the fear of losing himself, the transformations were never pleasant, and Tatara could read the reluctance in the slight downturn in the corners of his lips. That was why he’d made the effort tonight to do something different- he wanted to make these nights a little more enjoyable in whatever way he could.

As the sun sank over the treeline, making jagged silhouettes of the pines that surrounded them, with slow, heavy movements, Mikoto climbed inside the tent to strip off his clothes and emerged with a blanket wrapped around himself, then shuffled to sit behind Tatara, laying his head on his shoulder and wrapping his arms around his waist. His eyes were closed and his face was blank, but his reluctance was betrayed by the way his fingers curled in the fabric of Tatara’s coat. Before long, the moon began to edge above the horizon, and Tatara could feel him starting to twitch and tremble.

“It’s okay…” he said softly, pressing a kiss to Mikoto’s cheek and rubbing the back of his hand with his thumb.

Mikoto let out a barely-strangled grunt of pain as his body tensed, then began to change shape- Tatara could feel the muscle and bone shift against him, but he stayed perfectly still, his hand resting atop Mikoto’s even as he felt it deform beneath his fingers.

It felt like an age until the shaking stopped, but in reality, it was less than a minute. Mikoto let out a huff of relief as the ache of his bones deforming finally ceased, and he rested his chin back on Tatara’s shoulder again.

“You okay?”

A nod.

“Good.”

Mikoto shifted to lie on his side, and Tatara leaned against his heaving ribcage, sliding his fingers through the russet fur to massage his shoulder. Mikoto turned his head to press his nose to Tatara’s arm briefly.

“Have you ever toasted a marshmallow before?”

Mikoto shook his head.

“I’m about to blow your mind.”

 

The pair sat by the fire until the last light of dusk had seeped out of the western sky, with Tatara skewering marshmallows on chopsticks and offering them to Mikoto when they’d begun to melt into sticky, caramelised goo. As usual, he found something inane to chat about to keep Mikoto’s mind off things- this time, it was stories from when he was a child, and he used to go camping with his adoptive parents before his mother left. He and his father still went alone from time to time, but it was rare they ever got the opportunity now- Tatara’s father spent more time letting his money trickle across the blackjack table at the shady gang-run casino on the edge of town than he spent home with Tatara.

“Not that it bothers me,” Tatara added, realising the conversation had taken more of a melancholy tone than he’d intended, then he changed the subject. “You know, I’m not actually sure marshmallows are good for dogs.”

Mikoto huffed, as if to point out that he wasn’t _actually_ a dog, then licked a few flecks of the melted goo off his muzzle. Tatara chuckled, cuddling in against the warmth of his fur and letting out a sigh of contentment.

“You know, the cold isn’t really so bad when you have your own personal giant, fluffy space heater.”

Mikoto rolled his eyes.

Suddenly, a mischievous smile crossed Tatara’s face, and Mikoto gave him a suspicious look, watching him raise his hands to cup them around his mouth, before throwing his head back and...

_“Awooooo!”_

Mikoto hit him on the arm with his tail, staring up at him with a sceptical look in his eye, and when Tatara opened his eyes once more to grinned at him, it was clear by the expression on his face that, if Mikoto could speak, the first thing out of his mouth would be: _what the fuck was that?_

“Just got possessed by the urge, being out here in the woods on a night like this...” Tatara explained with a shrug, as though there was nothing off about what he’d just done. “You know, I just realised I’ve never actually heard you howl before. I mean, there’s never really been a convenient time for it, seeing as we’ve always been in your house right on the edge of a town, but I’d really like to.”

Mikoto huffed, almost indignantly. A fond, but firm: _Get fucked._

“Please~?” Tatara tilted his head downwards slightly so that he could look up at Mikoto through his eyelashes, and he felt Mikoto’s ribs heave beneath him as he sighed in faint exasperation. He loved just how tightly he had his partner wrapped around his little finger. With a grin, Tatara watched him inhale deeply, then raise his head and extend his neck as his lips parted.

The sound that rang from deep in Mikoto’s chest was low and powerful and awe-inspiring _._ It resonated across the hillside with a sort of incomparable majesty, so loud that it shook the very air in Tatara’s lungs. He watched the cloud of mist escaping Mikoto’s lips catching in the silver moonlight with wide eyes, and it wasn’t until a few seconds after the last echoes ringing off the hillside had ebbed that Tatara finally recovered the ability to speak.

“Wow…” was all he managed to say, and Mikoto let out a soft grunt that sounded half-like a smug chuckle.

 

The long trek up the hill had both of them exhausted, and it wasn’t late when Tatara began to nod off against Mikoto’s shoulder. Mikoto gave him a nudge with his nose to wake him, then pushed him gently towards the tent. Obediently, Tatara crawled inside, waiting for Mikoto to follow him in and settle on the sleeping rolls spread across the floor before zipping up the tent and nestling in against Mikoto’s shoulder, pulling the pile of blankets on top of them. Even despite the late-winter chill, the fire, still burning low outside, the nest of bedding, and the warmth of Mikoto’s body were more than enough to ward off the worst of the cold, and it wasn’t long before Tatara was dozing off once more.

* * *

 

The weak February sunlight had begun to filter through the green nylon they slept beneath by the time Tatara began to wake up. The first thing he noticed was that Mikoto was shivering- he’d returned to his human form, and his bare skin wasn’t as good at keeping the warmth in. Tatara threw another blanket over him and snuggled in close to his chest to share his own body heat, and soon enough, the shaking of Mikoto’s shoulders began to still, and he relaxed into Tatara’s embrace.

It took a while before Tatara finally worked up the willpower to extricate himself from Mikoto’s arms, then set about dismantling the charred remains of the fire and packing up what he could of their campsite, before returning to the irresistible warmth beneath the blankets with Mikoto, where he stayed until his partner woke up.

It was late morning by the time Mikoto finally stirred, and when he did, Tatara had a bottle of water and a handful of pain medication ready for the inevitable post-full moon hangover. Mikoto sat up with a groan and took them gratefully, then leaned against Tatara as he waited for the last fog of sleep to clear.

“How are you feeling?”

“Stiff.”

Tatara shuffled around him to sit behind him and lay his hands on Mikoto’s shoulders, then began to knead the muscle beneath with the heel of his hand.

“Mm…”

Tatara was content to sit like that, massaging out the soreness in his back until he’d shaken off the last of his tiredness and could finally muster the strength to reach for his clothes and start getting dressed, though before he did so, he turned around to give Tatara a grateful kiss.

As Tatara crawled out of the tent to let Mikoto get dressed, he noticed that his lips were still tingling, and it occurred to him that it was taking him far longer to get used to the idea of being able to kiss Mikoto than it had taken him to accept his lycanthropy. In his defence, they’d only been dating officially for a few weeks now, and it had been four months since Tatara had learned of Mikoto’s condition. But it was still stranger to him that Mikoto loved him back than it was that he turned into a wolf on full moons.

Once Mikoto emerged from the tent fully dressed, the pair ate a quick breakfast, then packed up their tent and set off back down the hill. Mikoto appeared grateful to get moving; the walk helped to work the soreness out of his stiff limbs. By now, they were both more than ready for the warmth of a house and a hot shower, but even though he was achy and a little bit cold, Tatara was glad he’d insisted on this outing. He wasn’t bothered by going without his creature comforts for a night, especially when Mikoto had seemed to enjoy himself, even if it was difficult to tell sometimes.

As they walked, Tatara piped up: “So why don’t you howl much? Isn’t that the coolest part of being a wolf?”

Mikoto shrugged. “Not that big on it, I guess.”

“Why not?”

“For normal wolves it’s a way of telling other wolves where you are, and I don’t wanna be found.”

Tatara didn’t say anything for a moment, dwelling on Mikoto’s words. At first, he thought it was a little odd that he didn’t want to meet people like himself, but Tatara supposed he wasn’t exactly the kind of person who liked to bond over his shared troubles. Besides, by the sounds of it, it was only under very specific circumstances that werewolves retained their self-awareness during full moons, and he couldn’t imagine an encounter between two of Mikoto’s kind would go well, especially if they were territorial. Perhaps he already _had_ met others of his kind; it would explain the scars Tatara had seen on him.

“And it’s a way of finding a mate,” Mikoto added, seeming to have detected the drop in the mood, then he elbowed Tatara playfully.

Tatara giggled, his thoughts forgotten. “I think I prefer ‘boyfriend’ to ‘mate,’ to be perfectly honest~.” It occurred to Tatara as he spoke that this was the first time they’d used the word “boyfriend” to refer to one another, and he very much liked the way it sounded. Mikoto apparently had noticed his somewhat goofy smile, and slipped his hand into Tatara’s as they walked.

* * *

 

By the time they spotted the treeline and the road beyond, Tatara was thoroughly tired of walking, and he let out a deep sigh of relief as he spotted Mikoto’s house, stretching his arms above his head.

“I can’t wait to take a nice hot sho-… Mikoto?” Tatara’s head snapped around when he realised his boyfriend was no longer beside him, and he spotted him crouching a few yards behind him. “What’s wrong?”

“A print.”

Tatara hurried over and crouched beside him, and surely enough, a line of large dog-like pawprints were impressed into the dirt by the side of the driveway.

“They aren’t mine.” Mikoto said quietly, a small crease forming between his brows as he spoke. “I dunno anyone around here with a dog big enough to do this.”

“…You think there’s another werewolf around?”

“Could be.”

“Is that bad?”

“Depends how territorial they are.”

Tatara frowned. “Sorry…”

“For what?”

“It can’t be a coincidence that I pestered you into that dumb howling thing and now this happened… You said it’s a way of telling wolves where you are.”

“I didn’t know there were others nearby. It’s not your fault.”

Tatara chewed his lip, not entirely convinced, and Mikoto reached over to tangle their fingers, then got to his feet.

“They’re gone for at least a month, and they probably won’t remember this place,” he pointed out, and Tatara nodded in agreement, though there was still a pool of guilt in the pit of his stomach. Nonetheless, he tried his best to shake it away. Mikoto had a point- if they usually didn’t remember themselves in their wolf form, it was unlikely the stranger would find their way back here.

“You’re right. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Mikoto pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, then led Tatara inside.  


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry for the hiatus! Rarepair week ate up all my time, but I’m hoping to return to my usual posting schedule now! I hope the little [Chiho/Sakura ficlet](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9617708) I wrote for this universe based on the chapter 15 exchange between Sakura and Tatara makes up for how long it took me to finish this chapter ;w;
> 
> Note: Tatara’s name for his father is based on [this translation](http://dijeh.tumblr.com/post/143644989403/back-from-the-dead-for-a-short-tiny-bit-aka-heres) from Tatara’s K: All Characters short story, in which the translator points out: “Tatara calls his dad おっちゃん ‘occhan’ which is a very familiar and loveable form of おじちゃん ‘ojichan’ (’old man’).“
> 
> This chapter can also be found on [Tumblr.](http://mistleto-3.tumblr.com/post/157506442509/crying-for-the-moon-part-17)

Over the few weeks that followed, it seemed that the prediction Tatara had made to Sakura about people losing interest in his relationship had come true faster than he’d expected (and incidentally, it seemed she had taken his advice, and shortly after their conversation, he spotted her holding hands with Chiho in the corridor outside their homeroom). After the first week, the gossip and the funny looks he and Mikoto had been the subjects of had subsided completely, and things for the most part went back to normal, except for the obvious increase in affection between the pair, and the rapidly growing amount of time Tatara had been spending at Mikoto’s house. He went home with Mikoto after class at least three afternoons a week, and passed the entirety of almost every weekend there with him- seeing as Mikoto lived alone, it was more convenient to spend the time at his rather than Tatara’s, as there was no fear of disruptions. Not that they had anything illicit planned, but Tatara wasn’t fond of the idea of having his father, drunk and down from a losing streak, burst into his room while they were watching movies or making out; it seemed like it would be a bit of a mood killer.

What had surprised Tatara the most though was that his father had actually _noticed_ the frequency of his absences- he was used to looking after himself in between the unpredictable comings and goings of his supposed caretaker, and to having little attention paid to him by his father the times he _was_ home (often having gotten back too late for him to have the energy to ask about Tatara’s day). Though Tatara supposed his father was used to his son being around during the little amount of time he was back in the house himself, which was perhaps why he’d taken note of the fact he wasn’t there, but even so, it had still taken him almost a month to mention it.  

One afternoon after class, Tatara got back to the house to find his dad in the kitchen, cooking dinner. For once, he seemed completely sober, and in good cheer- it was one of his rare better days. By the looks of it, he’d gotten lucky with his gambling that day- all the food packaging on the kitchen counter was name brand, and the house was warm- they usually couldn’t afford to put the heating on, so it was obvious he’d come into some money somehow. Tatara couldn’t help but smile as he set his school bag down on a kitchen chair; it was times like this that reminded him of being a kid, before his father’s gambling got out of hand and drove his mother away. Things used to be like this all the time, and seeing his dad like this instilled him with a pleasant sense of nostalgia, no matter how temporary this inevitably was.

At the sound of the backpack hitting the wood, Tatara’s father turned around with a fond look on his face. “Tatara, you’re home.”

“Mm, why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’ve been spending a lot of time out and about recently- I haven’t seen you at the weekends for a while, and you’ve been getting home from school quite late a lot.”

Tatara blinked in astonishment- he hadn’t expected his father to pick up on his habits, but it was a pleasant surprise that he did. “Yeah, sorry…” he said sheepishly.

“It’s alright. It’s nice to see you finally making friends and getting out a bit.”

Tatara smiled, taking a seat at the kitchen table.

“Is it that redhead boy I saw around here once that you’ve been spending time with?”

“Yeah, Mikoto, and another boy from the year above me at school, Izumo.”

“That Mikoto isn’t the type I imagined you getting along with,” his father said light-heartedly, crossing the kitchen to sit opposite Tatara at the table.

“He looks a bit scary on the outside, but he’s quite sweet under that stoic exterior.”

His father nodded. “That’s nice…” Then, he paused for a moment, and an odd smile crossed his face. “So not been spending that time with a girl then?”

“Huh?”

“You’ve been gone overnight a lot, and you’re getting to that age… is there a lady in your life?”

“Ahh, not exactly,” Tatara said sheepishly, then hesitated for a moment. He didn’t think he’d have another opportunity to talk to his dad about Mikoto any time soon, and he supposed he might as well get it over with sooner than later- admittedly he was a little nervous, but he didn’t think his father was the type to react _terribly_ to having a queer son. He took a deep breath, chewing his lip, then looked up at his dad. “Well, there is someone…”

“Oh? Who?”

“Mikoto, the boy I just mentioned…”

“Hm? Does he have a sister or something?”

“No… I’ve actually been seeing him for about a month now, you know, as boyfriends.”

A look of surprise crossed his father’s face. “You’re gay?” There was no anger in his voice, thankfully, just mild shock, and a little confusion.

“Not exactly… I like girls too, as well as guys, and everything in between… I guess I prefer other guys though,” he admitted.

His father nodded slowly, seemingly processing the information. After a moment, he said: “Well, I suppose it’s not so much of a surprise…”

“How so?”

“Well, you’ve always been… soft-hearted, for a boy. You never liked sports, and you’ve always been a little feminine.”

“I guess…” It was hard not to cringe a little at his father’s stereotyping, but he was glad he was accepting, even if he was a little misinformed.

“So… you really like this boy?”

Tatara nodded firmly. “It took me a long time to work up the courage to say anything to him… but I’ve never felt like this about anyone before.” As he spoke, he could feel himself smiling, and it was a struggle to stop himself from gushing about how perfect his partner was, but he managed to hold back the gooey flood.

His smile was mirrored on his father’s face, who clapped him gently on the shoulder. “I’m glad you’re happy,” he said, then got to his feet and returned to the stove. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

And just like that, the conversation was over, and Tatara was amazed it had gone so well.

* * *

 

The weekend after Tatara had spoken to his father was the weekend of the full moon, which fell on a Sunday, so Tatara once again spent the day preceding it at Mikoto’s house. While he had brought homework that he’d intended to do, he ended up getting none of it finished- it was difficult to concentrate on making notes from a textbook when Mikoto was lying with his head on his knee, and Tatara couldn’t resist stealing kisses from him every few minutes or so, before continuing to fight to keep his gaze on the page. Barely an hour passed before Tatara accepted there was no way he was going to be able to concentrate on his schoolwork and gave it up as a lost cause, submitting to the urge to cuddle up to his rather handsome boyfriend and put on a cheesy romance movie instead.

“So, I told my dad about us,” he said casually as he settled into Mikoto’s arms.

“How’d that go?”

“Really well, actually. He was having a good day, I think he had a big win because he’d bought some nice food and he was cooking for us, and he mentioned to me that he noticed I haven’t been home much, asked if I was out with a girl, and I told him we were together. He pretty much just said as long as I was happy, that’s fine.”

“Good.”

The pair turned their attention back to the movie after that, however even _that_ was difficult to focus on, mostly because Mikoto was acting a little… off. It was difficult for Tatara to put his finger on what exactly seemed strange about him, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that _something_ was bothering him. It wasn’t long before he couldn’t help but ask:

“Mikoto… you seem a little distracted, everything okay?”

Mikoto grunted noncommittally.

“You know you can talk to me about anything, right? You don’t have to keep secrets from me.”

Mikoto let out a sigh, then was quiet for a moment, before finally saying: “’S about my mother.”

Tatara blinked in surprise- Mikoto had only mentioned her once, when he’d said she had been disowned by his grandfather, and he knew nothing more about her. He remained quiet, waiting for Mikoto to expand further.

“Mizuomi mentioned her a while back, said he knew her. I didn’t pay much mind to it ‘cause of everythin’ that happened with us gettin’ together, but you mentionin’ your dad just reminded me of it.”

Tatara nodded slowly. “What did Mizuomi say about her?”

“Just that she dated a werewolf, ‘n’ the wolf remembered himself around her, like I do with you.”

“…Was the werewolf your father?”

“He didn’t say. Conversation got cut off before he could mention anythin’ else.”

“And that’s what’s been bothering you, wondering about your mother?”

“Mm.”

Before Tatara could say anything else, however, they were interrupted by the sound of his phone ringing. The number on the screen was his father’s, and he was about to hang up to call him back later when Mikoto said:

“You should get that.”

“Are you sure? It can probably wait.”

“Might be important,” Mikoto said with a shrug,

“If you’re sure…” Tatara replied tentatively, then answered the phone and lifted it to his ear. “Daddy?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mikoto smile faintly at the juvenile way in which he addressed his father.

“Tatara… There’s someone outside the house, he keeps knocking on the door and he won’t go away and he won’t answer my questions until I go out there. You need to come, you’re better at smooth talking than I am, come and ask him what he wants.” His father’s voice was shaky and slurred on the other end of the line as he spoke hurriedly into the receiver, and Tatara frowned. He sounded drunk again.

“Are you okay?”

“You need to come home right away.”

“Alright daddy, I’m on my way. Stay calm, okay? It’ll be fine.”

“Okay.”

Tatara hung up the phone and sighed.

“Somethin’ wrong?” Mikoto asked.

“My dad, he’s gotten himself all worked up about something or other, says there are people outside the house. It’s probably nothing, but he sounds a bit spooked, so I’m going to go and see if he’s okay.”

Mikoto glanced at the clock, then nodded slowly. It was mid-afternoon, with perhaps two hours until sundown.

“Don’t worry, I should be back well before the moon comes up; it won’t take me long to calm him down. He does this sometimes, it always goes the same way. He’ll have gotten himself worked up over nothing, I’ll speak to him and get him some tea, he’ll calm down and I’ll go about my day.”

“Alright.” Mikoto seemed satisfied by the explanation. “Do you need a ride?”

“Nah, it’s okay. I’ll cycle there.”

Mikoto nodded, watching Tatara grab his coat and his shoes before giving him a kiss as he hurried out the door.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter can also be found on [Tumblr.](http://mistleto-3.tumblr.com/post/157629489924/crying-for-the-moon-part-18)

Tatara was out of breath by the time he made it home, having cycled up the hill as quickly as he could. As he leaned his bike against a tree, he spotted the people his father had mentioned- two middle-aged men in suits, one of whom was significantly taller and burlier-looking than the other, waiting outside the front door of his house. They had the look of businessmen about them- expensive watches and designer sunglasses and sour looks on their faces. Tatara approached them with a friendly smile.

“Excuse me, hello? Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Who are you?” the shorter of the two men asked. His tone was impolite, but Tatara paid no mind to it.

“My name is Totsuka Tatara, I live here. Is there something you need?”

The two suited men shared a brief but loaded glance.

“’Totsuka,’ eh? You the son of the guy that lives here?” said the taller man.

“Yes... did something happen to my father?”

“No… Not yet,” replied the shorter man, then he nodded to his colleague, who stepped forward and seized Tatara by his wrists, pulling them sharply behind his back.

Tatara yelped in surprise, struggling briefly before giving up the resistance as wasted effort- the man’s grip on his forearm was unyielding, and there was no way Tatara would be able to match his strength.

“Please… there’s no need for this, I want to help get this sorted out. I can talk to him for you,” Tatara protested, but the man holding him paid him no attention.

Meanwhile, the shorter man had walked back over to the doorstep of the house and pounded on the door with his fist. “We know you’re home, Totsuka. Your son is out here trying to clean up your mess. You’ve had more than enough chances now; we’ve given you plenty of warning. You have thirty minutes to pay up, or we’ll break his arm.”

Tatara felt as though his veins had filled with ice. _They’re debt collectors._

After his big win a week or so ago, his father had told him he’d paid off the money he owed, that he’d gotten it sorted and there was nothing to worry about anymore. And by the sounds of it, he’d either lied and gone straight back to the shady gambling house and blown all his winnings, or quickly gotten himself stuck in the same situation just as quickly as he’d gotten himself out of it.

No response came from within the house- the curtains were all closed, and the doors and windows were locked shut. Not that there seemed much point in hiding though- the collectors knew he was home. But what was he to do even if he did come outside? He didn’t have the money to pay off the men, so no matter what, someone was going to end up getting hurt. So he stayed quietly inside, and let his son take the heat.

But even in this situation, Tatara couldn’t be angry at his father- it’s not like he wanted things to turn out this way, he just couldn’t help himself. Besides, it wasn’t like being angry would help him now; the debt collectors wouldn’t be gotten rid of until they had their money, or their payment in blood, and his father had none of the former to give them. Tatara was just… dismayed that once again, it was his family that were suffering for his father’s mistakes- first his mother, who had been driven away by the way he poured all their money into slot machines, and now himself. As the silence from within the house drew on, all Tatara could do was brace himself for the inevitable pain, and hope that a broken arm would be enough to satisfy them for now.

* * *

 

Tatara had been gone longer than Mikoto had expected by now, and the sun was sinking uncomfortably close to the horizon. Anxiety that he couldn’t quite suppress was beginning to gnaw in the pit of Mikoto’s stomach at the prospect of being without Tatara on a full moon- he didn’t know if he’d still remember himself if he wasn’t in his partner’s presence, and he found himself pacing the house tersely, snatching up the shirt Tatara had worn the night before from where it lay crumpled on top of his covers to take some comfort in the scent that lingered on the fabric. Every muscle in his body was wound taut as he waited for the sound of the door opening, and for the relief that would accompany the sound of his lover’s voice announcing he was home. It never came.

_Why?_

Infinitely worse than his fear of transforming was his concern for Tatara. He wasn’t answering his phone, and as the afternoon drew on, it became impossible to ignore the worry beginning to bubble in the pit of his abdomen. Tatara wouldn’t abandon him, not without a word, not on a full moon. Not unless something had gone wrong.

Suddenly, the fear simmering in his gut turned to stone.

Tatara had said there were people outside his house, and his father was afraid. He’d also mentioned a couple of months ago that his father had a gambling problem, and that they didn’t have much money. So where was his father getting the cash from to gamble with?

_Loan sharks?_

Mikoto threw a punch at the wall, sending a spider-web of cracks out across the plaster from his fist, then grabbed his keys and ran for the door. His pulse was thundering in his ears and his throat dried up as he leapt onto his bike, without even having bothered to grab his helmet. The only thing he had with him was the t-shirt that had been in his hand as he left the house, which he’d stuffed into his pocket without thinking as he hurried to the door. The bike roared to life beneath him and he took off down the driveway, gritting his teeth as the cold wind battered his eyes.

If Tatara’s father was really in as much financial trouble as he’d suggested, then there was no way he’d gotten the money from someone legitimate, and the prospect made his stomach turn. He’d seen what those sorts of people did when their customers couldn’t pay up- Mizuomi had had a few run-ins with loan sharks before he’d let Izumo take over the bar’s finances, and more than once, they’d threatened to put him in the hospital if he couldn’t pay. They’d even made veiled suggestions of hurting and even kidnapping Izumo as collateral for his uncle’s debt on more than one occasion. Thankfully, it had never come to that- Mizuomi had bought a gun to protect their home, and Izumo managed to settle the debt, but Mikoto was certain that they wouldn’t have been above hurting a kid if it came down to it.

And on top of his fear, Mikoto felt his hands beginning to shake as he neared Tatara’s home- the sky was darkening fast, and his skin was beginning to prickle and crawl, his muscles twitching as though they longed to slough off that skin, like a layer of clothing that fit too tightly. The tell-tale ache was beginning to burn in his bones, and as he drove, the pain only became more intense, until he was clamping his teeth so tightly together that his jaw shook.

It wasn’t long before he was forced to pull over; by then, he could barely see straight as he concealed the bike behind the treeline of the woods that the road cut through before half-collapsing off it. Thankfully, he was only a quarter of a mile or so from Tatara’s place, but right now, it didn’t matter. The agony building in his limbs had him tasting copper on the back of his tongue, and with a quiet grunt, he stumbled, landing on the bed of dry pine needles as his back arched and his limbs gave out. A final pulse of agony rolled through him as he heard the stitches of his clothes tear and felt his bones twist out of shape, and with the last morsel of strength he could muster he made a grab for the t-shirt he’d stuffed in his pocket and buried his face in the fabric, clinging onto the thought of his lover in the desperate hope it would keep him sane.

_He needs me…_

And then his vision went dark.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter can also be found on [Tumblr. ](http://mistleto-3.tumblr.com/post/157777709744/crying-for-the-moon-part-19)
> 
> Warning for graphic depictions of violence in this chapter.

When Mikoto opened his eyes, his thoughts were dim, cloudy. Or rather, they weren’t really thoughts at all, simply an _awareness._ There was pain, and a lot of it, radiating through his bones, and didn’t know why- he wasn’t wounded. He was trembling, but he wasn’t cold- the lingering late winter chill couldn’t penetrate his fur. He let out a snarl of frustration as he tried to get to his feet, but the ache kept him down.

However, the pain was quickly beginning to subside, and within a few minutes, it had ebbed to the point it was bearable, so he quickly forgot about it and moved onto his next priority, which was the pang of hunger in his stomach. He took a deep breath to steady the last of his trembling and muster the strength to pull himself to his feet, preparing to head off in search of some food.

But as he inhaled, the smell of the shirt lying on the ground beside his head caught his interest, and he lowered his muzzle to sniff at the fabric. The scent was familiar, almost comforting.

_Tatara…_

The thought was distant and unsubstantial, but it was enough to draw Mikoto’s conscious mind out of the shadows, and he returned to himself with a jolt. Immediately, he latched onto his memories with a feverish desperation, battling against the encroaching fog that threatened to shroud them once more.

_Tatara._

That’s why he was out here, that’s why he was alone for the first full moon in months- Tatara could be in danger.

After he’d caught that first vital handhold on his memories, they returned in a torrent, drowning out the lingering ache and grogginess of his transformation with crushing fear that suddenly seized his chest. Ignoring the soreness in his shoulders, he launched himself in the direction of Tatara’s house, trying to think of nothing but the feeling of the air rushing through his fur. Concentrating on the sensation helped him keep hold of his sanity- if he focussed on feeling the body he was in, it was easier not to let his consciousness slip back into whatever dark corner it was normally confined to on these nights. And it distracted him from the disconcerting thought that he didn’t know how long he’d blacked out for, and his terror at what could have happened in the meantime.

He was just around the corner from the house when, over the sound of the wind, he heard a loud _snap,_ like the sound of a tree branch breaking. Immediately after came a scream of agony escaping gritted teeth, as though the person who uttered it had tried their best to stifle the noise but hadn’t been able to.

The voice unmistakeably belonged to Tatara.

The last of the remaining fog in Mikoto’s mind evaporated instantly at the sound- the knowledge that Tatara was hurting, _being_ hurt, pierced the haze, and everything was thrown into agonising clarity. As he tore up the hill towards the house, he let out a shaky howl to let Tatara know he was coming.

The little house was almost unbearably close-by now, so close that Mikoto could hear Tatara stifling a sob, and the voice of a stranger calling:

“We’re off now, and your son’s coming with us. You’ll see him again when you’ve paid up; maybe that’ll give you some incentive. You must understand this is just business…”

Mikoto skidded around the corner onto the driveway of the tumbledown farmhouse, his hackles raised and a snarl rumbling in his chest, and the first thing he saw was Tatara, standing with his teeth clamped around his bottom lip and tears glistening on his cheek in the porchlight. One of his arms was seized in the grip of a large, burly man in a suit, and the other hung at an awkward angle by his side. The knowledge of what caused the crack that Mikoto heard turned his stomach, and he felt something that had been pulled taut by fear inside himself finally snap. His vision tunnelled, and a feral hunger for revenge rose in his throat like bile; the anger that overwhelmed him was so powerful he could almost taste it.

At the sight of the huge wolf careening towards him, its teeth bared in a vicious threat display, the man who had hold of Tatara instinctively pulled his captive between himself and the beast.

“Mikoto…” Tatara’s voice was shaky, as if he’d been crying, and the sound only fuelled a fresh wave of anger in Mikoto. He leapt towards the debt collector, darting around him to come at him from the side and rake his claws down the flesh of his forearm. The man let out a shout of agony, letting go of his captive and stumbling backwards. As soon as the debt collector was clear of Tatara, Mikoto knocked his partner backwards with his haunch as carefully as he could, hoping it would push him well clear of the worst of the violence, then immediately turned back around to lunge at his attacker once more. The force of Mikoto’s forepaws hitting his ribcage knocked the man flat on his back, expelling the air from his lungs audibly, and there was a sickening _crunch_ as the weight of the immense beast pinning him against the ground crushed his ribcage. His head snapped backwards, hitting the corner of a concrete paving stone with another _crack,_ and he went limp. Blood trickled onto the stone.

Mikoto didn’t know what he would have done to the man if he hadn’t been distracted, but the sound of Tatara shouting his name caught his attention, and he spun around to see the second debt collector pulling a shotgun from the backseat of his car before spinning around to train it on Mikoto. They faced off for a moment, their eyes locked as Mikoto stared up the barrel of the gun, his teeth bared and his fur on end. He was too close to the debt collector for him to shoot- close enough that if he saw his hand twitch, he’d have enough time to leap up and rip his throat out as he fired.

The stalemate dragged on, punctuated only by the low snarls rolling in Mikoto’s throat like an engine revving as the pair circled one another slowly, with Mikoto painfully conscious that the gunman was inching closer to Tatara, and that if he tried to stop him drawing any nearer, he’d end up with a bullet between his eyes. He itched to leap on the stranger, inflict the same pain on him that he and his colleague had inflicted on Tatara, but at the same time, he didn’t want to risk getting shot and leaving his partner on his own to defend himself from the armed thug. 

Suddenly, something hit the gunman on the side of the head- a rock flew at him from Tatara’s direction, not heavy enough or thrown hard enough to hurt him severely, but enough to break his focus, just for a second.

Mikoto seized the opportunity, springing forward towards the debt collector just as he spun to train his gun on Tatara. At the sight of the gunman taking aim at his lover, Mikoto changed directions, leaping instead at Tatara to knock him to the ground just as the gun went off with a loud _crack_. A grunt of agony escaped Mikoto’s teeth as a few scattered birdshot pellets embedded themselves in his shoulder; burning pain burst outward from the wound immediately, and he felt warm blood trickling through his fur, but the worst of the shot had sailed safely over them.

He quickly forgot his pain though, as Tatara let out a cry of his own as he landed on his injured arm, trapping it beneath himself, and the sound ringing in Mikoto’s skull sent a sharp stab of guilt through his gut. He instantly leapt off of Tatara, rolling him onto his side with his muzzle to lift his weight off the broken bone and wincing as Tatara whimpered at the movement. Desperation was beginning to rise in his chest now, and the need to stop his partner’s pain, stop the people causing it, overrode his every other thought.

His head snapped back around to face their attacker before he could shoot again, and he caught him in the middle of reloading his weapon. Just as he finished loading the fresh cartridge, Mikoto lunged at the him, and the gunman fumbled to pump the handgrip and take aim before Mikoto’s forepaws hit his chest. But he wasn’t quick enough, and the wolf knocked the barrel of the weapon upwards as he collided with the assailant to send the next shot sailing harmlessly up towards the treetops, then closed his jaws around the debt collector’s wrist. With a cry, the man released the weapon, and Mikoto knocked it out of his hands, pinning him to the ground by his shoulders as he bared his teeth, the fur around his muzzle dripping with blood.

But now that the threat of his partner being shot was gone, Mikoto’s panic was beginning to die down, the red haze around the edge of his vision was fading, and he finally recognised the taste of blood on his tongue. A cold realisation seeped through him, ten seconds too late.

_I bit someone._

The debt collector was writhing beneath him, trying to clutch at his wound as his body began to shake. The first transformation always started quickly.

There was only one thing Mikoto could do- he couldn’t create another werewolf and leave it to roam the city, especially not a man like this; if he was the type of person who could watch his partner snap a kid’s arm without a shred of sympathy, he’d be far too dangerous to leave unchecked in wolf form.

Mikoto sort of wished his fury hadn’t subsided so quickly- it would have made this job far less unpleasant. For a moment there he’d actually _wanted_ to kill this man, wanted to watch the life in his eyes go out like a snuffed candle, so he could never lay a hand on Tatara again. But that was when he’d been half-mad with rage and with the agony in his shoulder and with Tatara’s cry of anguish ringing in his head. Now the adrenaline high was beginning to subside, and all he felt was sick. But he needed to get it over with quickly, or he feared he wouldn’t be able to find the strength.

He took a deep breath, then quickly sank his teeth into the debt collector’s throat and jerked his head to snap his neck, before climbing off the body and turning away from it. He didn’t want to watch his eyes glass over- the events of the last minute or so were finally catching up to him in a wave, the enormity of what he’d just done wracked him with guilt. The look of horror in the debt collector’s eyes was burned into his irises, and no amount of attempting to reassure himself that it was necessary, it was the right thing to do, would erase the image from Mikoto’s mind. The last of the fight drained out of him, and he could feel himself shaking as the adrenaline emptied from his system and the full force of the pain in his shoulder began to make itself known.

Slowly, he turned his head towards Tatara, who was sitting up where Mikoto left him. There was a blank look on his face, as though he was in shock, and his cheeks were blanched with pain. He surveyed the state of his driveway- the taller of the attackers was unconscious, and there was a pool of blood slowly spreading outwards from his skull, but he was still breathing, if only weakly after his ribs had been crushed. The second debt collector was not- he was eerily still, and there was yet more blood, so much blood, oozing from the wound on the dead man’s neck, and dripping from Mikoto’s shoulder, clinging to the fur on his lips.

Mikoto watched Tatara as he looked around, and the blank shock on his face slowly morphed into horror. It was _that_ that he couldn’t stand the sight of- even with the corpse lying behind him, it was the sickened look in Tatara’s eyes that broke him. Suddenly, Tatara coughed, then turned hurriedly to the side to throw up on the ground, and by the time he looked up, Mikoto was gone.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter can also be found on [Tumblr.](http://mistleto-3.tumblr.com/post/158030985989/crying-for-the-moon-part-20)

“Izumo!”

The sound of his uncle’s yell startled Izumo, and he plucked his headphone from his ear and looked up from the screen of his laptop as his guardian burst through his bedroom door.

“Uncle? Everythin’ okay?”

“I saw Kagutsu.” Mizuomi’s face was white, and he rushed over to Izumo’s window, which looked out into the woods. From between the trees, it was possible to catch a glimpse of the driveway leading up to the Suoh residence, and sure enough, the silhouette of a wolf padded across the gravel, but it was difficult to make out any details in the dark.

“Are you sure it ain’t just Mikoto?”

“It triggered the porch light a minute ago, and it was covered in blood. Mikoto said he was in control of himself around that Totsuka boy; why would he be outside, alone, all bloody? It _has_ to be Kagutsu. Stay inside the house, lock your door, I’m going to get him.” His voice was frantic, and his eyes were wide, half-mad. As he spun on his heel to hurry out of the room, Izumo got to his feet and ran after his uncle, following him down into the storeroom behind the bar, where he unlocked the cabinet where his gun was kept.

“You’re gonna shoot it!?” Izumo exclaimed. “What if you’re wrong, what if it’s Mikoto?”

“What if I’m right? That thing killed my brother, it’ll kill Mikoto too.”

Izumo’s brow furrowed. “Mikoto? Why him?” The statement struck him as odd- his suspicion had always been that there was some kind of rivalry between Kagutsu and the Kusanagi family (though it had only been gleaned from the brief snippets that he’d heard of his uncle’s grief after his parents had been killed- through his fits of tears Izumo thought he’d heard Mizuomi sobbing that this was all his fault). He wasn’t entirely sure how Mizuomi could have been in any way to blame for what was essentially a wild animal attack though, unless Kagutsu had some kind of grudge against Mizuomi in his normal life and had managed to hold onto his anger even through his transformation. But if that was the case, then why would Mikoto specifically be targeted? From the way the story had been told to Izumo, it seemed like Mikoto getting bitten the night of his parents’ deaths was simply a tragic case of him being in the wrong place at the wrong time. What vendetta could Kagutsu possibly have against a teenage boy?

Mizuomi looked pained for a moment, fumbling with a box of ammunition, then sighed, his hands stilling as his gaze dropping to the ground. There was a long pause, before he admitted: “Because Mikoto is his son.”

“What?!” Izumo’s eyes widened.

“Mikoto’s mother left Kagutsu because he never wanted a child, he tried to _kill_ Mikoto when he was just a baby, and she left to protect her son, and he killed her in a fit of rage the same night. He hated that Mikoto cost him his wife; he never forgave him.”

“Did Kagutsu know what he was doing when he attacked him?”

“We think so. Kagutsu remembered himself around her, like Mikoto does around your friend; I overheard you two talking about it a few months back. She was there when he tried to kill their baby, so we were pretty sure he was aware of what he was doing.”

Izumo blanched at the thought; the idea that the creature outside, if it _was_ Kagutsu, was capable of murdering an innocent child in cold blood made his chest feel tight with fear, especially if it was still after his best friend.

“Then why’d he attack mum and dad if he just wanted Mikoto?” Izumo continued, regardless of his unease. His uncle had paused with the box of ammo in his hand, and Izumo was keen to stall him as long as he could, hoping it would give him time to calm down and reconsider, or at least for Izumo to think of a plan.

“It’s my fault… I’d been trying to convince Mikoto’s mother to leave Kagutsu for years, but she wouldn’t believe he was dangerous, no matter what he did to her. It was only when her son was born and it wasn’t just herself at risk anymore that she finally got out of there. The night Kagutsu attacked the baby, I wasn’t here, and your father and I bear a lot of resemblance to one another. I guess Kagutsu remembered enough of himself in wolf form that he remembered his grudge, but not enough of himself to be able to tell the difference between us.”

“I don’t understand why that makes it your fault. She didn’t leave Kagutsu ‘cause of you, she left ‘cause of Mikoto, to protect him. Didn’t Mikoto’s grandfather try and get ‘em to split up too?”

Mizuomi grimaced, the corners of his lips drawing back in pain. It was clear by the look in his eyes that the conversation had brought long-buried emotions flooding back into focus, emotions he’d rather have remained suppressed. “Yeah, I wasn’t the only one who knew he was abusive. But Kagutsu was so possessive of her, and I…” His voice caught in his throat as his breath hitched, and it took him a moment to force the words out. “I was in love with her. He hated me for it, saw me as a threat. Wanted me out of the picture, especially after she left him, and I think he blamed me in part for her finally plucking up the courage to escape him… If it wasn’t for me maybe your mum and dad would still be here.”

Izumo was struck by a pang of guilt at that moment, partly for forcing his uncle to talk about something he evidently would rather not have to dwell on, but also partly out of sympathy- he couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for Mizuomi, watching the woman he loved languish in an abusive relationship, and then have his brother and sister-in-law killed years later for his attempts to protect her.

Suddenly, Mizuomi’s expression changed, and his eyes narrowed. “You’re stalling. I can’t risk anyone else dying, not because of me.” His voice was low as he turned towards the door.

“Wait!” Izumo stepped between his uncle and the exit. The stalling had given him just enough time to come up with a plan. “Let me call Totsuka. If he’s with Mikoto, then we know the wolf out there is Kagutsu, and you can shoot it.”

Mizuomi looked conflicted for a moment- the mention of Tatara seemed to soften something in him. “Alright,” he conceded. “But make it fast.”

Izumo breathed a sigh at the brief reprieve, and with shaky hands he pulled his phone from his back pocket and called Tatara’s number, silently praying for him to pick up as quickly as he could.

The relief Izumo had felt at the click of the call being answered was quickly stifled immediately at the sound of Tatara’s voice- it sounded weak and stuffy, as though he was in pain, or had been crying. Izumo felt his lungs constrict with worry.

“Kusanagi…?”

Izumo had Tatara on speakerphone, and Mizuomi narrowed his eyes at his tone.

“Totsuka, is something wrong?” Izumo asked.

“Some debt collectors showed up at my house, and they broke my arm because my dad couldn’t pay them back.” His voice was subdued, but matter-of-fact.  

“What?! Are ya alright?”

“It’s not life threatening or anything, it just hurts a lot. I called a cab take me to the hospital. But I need you to find Mikoto for me…”

“He’s missing?”

“My dad called me earlier and said there were people outside the house so I went to calm him down thinking it was nothing, and I think Mikoto got worried because he overheard the phone call and then I was gone quite a while, so he came to see if everything was okay, but I guess he transformed on the way over. He remembered who he was though, and when he got here the debt collectors were about to kidnap me; they said they would give me back when my dad could pay them their money. He saved me, but he hurt the debt collectors pretty badly in the process… um… I think one of them is dead, and the other one’s still out cold and it’s been maybe twenty minutes now,” he admitted quietly.

“Where’s Mikoto now?” Mizuomi pressed.

“I think he freaked out when he saw how much he’d hurt them, and he ran away. I don’t know where he went but I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s heading your way, back home.”

“Okay, it’ll be alright, don’t panic, we’ll figure somethin’ out,” Izumo tried to reassure him, but it seemed Mizuomi was antsy.

“Kusanagi… is something wrong?” Tatara asked softly.

The tension in Izumo’s voice had betrayed him, and he sighed. “Look, don’t get riled up or anythin’, but there’s a wolf near Mikoto’s house and we ain’t sure if it’s him or if it’s Kagutsu, the wolf that bit him all those years back. If it _is_ Kagutsu, it could be a risk to Mikoto, so my uncle has a gun and once we’re sure who it is-…”

“To hell with sure!” Mizuomi burst out suddenly, his words frantic with mounting panic. “Kagutsu could kill us both; it’s not worth the risk, and besides that friend of yours is dangerous; he’ll be outta control with grief, if I-…”

“I hope you’re not suggestin’ what I think you are.” Izumo’s voice was low and threatening.

“Please, don’t hurt him!” came Tatara’s cry from the other end of the phone, his voice strained with terror. “Mikoto knows who he is; he’s not dangerous. The man had a gun, he could have killed me if Mikoto hadn’t stopped him before he had the chance. Please don’t hurt him; I love him…”  

Mizuomi froze at the sound of Tatara’s voice, and his face twisted into a grimace of anguish. “…Alright,” he conceded quietly.

“The cab is here now,” Tatara said. “I’m coming down, please don’t do anything until I get there.”

“Wait, Totsuka-…” Izumo had been about to protest that it was too dangerous, and he ought to go straight to the hospital, but the line went dead before he had a chance to finish his sentence.

A sniffle from his uncle’s direction turned Izumo’s attention back to him, and he saw Mizuomi’s shoulders shaking, his eyes screwed shut and his teeth clamped around his bottom lip.

“Uncle…?”

He was quiet for a moment, his hands curled into fists.

“What is it?”

“…Those were her lasts words to me: ‘I love him.’ She came here, the night she died, and left Mikoto with me because she didn’t think her father would let her in. She was bleeding; Kagutsu had hurt her. She said he lost control and tried to kill the baby, but she got between them and he came back to himself. Bullshit; he knew what he was doing when he tried to kill Mikoto, but she wouldn’t believe me when I said it. She was going back to try and reason with him. I begged her not to go, but she told me to trust her, she believed in him… she loved him. And then she left, and he killed her.” His voice cracked and broke on the final sentence.

“Mikoto isn’t like that. You heard what Totsuka said; Mikoto saved his life. He wouldn’t hurt anyone, not unless he was doing it to protect his friends.”

Mizuomi looked pained once more.

“Just wait for Totsuka to get here, okay? We’ll figure it out.”

“…Okay.”

 

The next quarter of an hour was agonizing- Mizuomi and Izumo waited in the apartment upstairs, where the best view of Mikoto’s house was, watching the wolf through the window as it paced and prowled around on the driveway, sniffing at the ground and the trees, circling Mikoto’s house. It was impossible to tell what its intentions were- was it Mikoto simply pacing the driveway of his home because he was locked outside, or was it someone looking for Mikoto, waiting for him?

The sound of Izumo’s phone ringing made the pair of them jump, and he answered it quickly. The contact displayed on the screen was Tatara’s.

“I’m almost here. I had the cab driver drop me off a little way away so he didn’t see anything suspicious, and I’m walking over now. I’ll be maybe five minutes. If the wolf outside the house is Mikoto, he’ll recognise me, and if it’s Kagutsu, it’ll attack me, and you said your uncle has a gun right?”

“Are ya mad, Totsuka? You could get yourself killed! What if he misses the shot?” Izumo protested.

“I don’t see another way to tell them apart. Mikoto was injured in the fight at my house, but he wasn’t limping when he ran away, so you couldn’t even be sure it wasn’t him that way.”

“Totsuka-…”

“I’m not going to stand aside and let what happened to your parents happen to you, and I’m not going to let you risk shooting Mikoto.”

Once again, Tatara hung up before Izumo could protest.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in the most recent chapters! I've caught up everything I'd written in advance, so it's taking me a little longer to get stuff done.
> 
> Thank you so much for all your support this far on this fic- I'm so sad it's nearly over. However, I definitely plan to write more for this series, and I can confirm I've got the outline for a sequel plotted out, focussing on SaruMi, MunaKusu and IzuSeri as main pairings, as well as the stars of this fic. My next big project once I've got this fic and a couple other projects rounded off will be a sequel for my other mikototsu fic, _Breathing_ , but after that, the sequel for this fic is the next thing on my to-do list!
> 
> This chapter can also be found on [Tumblr.](http://mistleto-3.tumblr.com/post/158356569094/crying-for-the-moon-part-21)

When Tatara finally appeared through the trees, it brought no relief to the pair waiting inside the apartment- the sight of his arm dangling at an odd angle made Izumo nauseous to imagine the pain he must be in, and seeing barely thirty feet between him and the wolf that could very well be Kagutsu made his heart twist in fear. Beside Izumo, Mizuomi took aim at the beast through the open window, his finger poised over the trigger of his shotgun should it go for the kill. It felt so wrong to let Tatara stay out there- he looked so small, set against the wide gravel path, his shadow stretched out on the ground behind him like a corpse against the dim, slanting streetlight. The huge creature was barely a few bounds from him- it could have closed the distance between them and sunk his fangs into Tatara’s throat in a heartbeat. But there was nothing Izumo could do to persuade him inside now- the boy was far too stubborn, and far too determined to protect Mikoto, even if it resulted in his own death.

Tatara took a deep breath as he edged towards the wolf, then raised his hands to cup his mouth and called: “Mikoto?” His eyes shone with hope as he spoke, mostly because he didn’t want to think about what might happen if the creature wasn’t who he prayed it was.

At the sound, the wolf turned to look at him, training its piercing gaze on Tatara for a heart-stopping moment. It was too dark for even Tatara to tell who it was- the silver moonlight had bleached the colour out of the world, and he couldn’t distinguish the crimson of blood from the rusty red of his fur to see if the creature bore the same wound he’d just seen inflicted on Mikoto. It stood in the shadows, where the canopy of the forest reached over the driveway, and it was almost impossible to make out its features.

There was a moment of stillness, as the creature regarded the newcomer, and Tatara allowed himself to relax a little, taking the first step forward. It hadn’t attacked yet- was that because it recognised him?

“Mikoto,” he repeated again, but this time it wasn’t a question. “I’m so sorry for everything that happened tonight; I’m sorry you had to get dragged into it. Please don’t feel bad for what you did; you didn’t have a choice. You saved my life.”

The wolf took a step forward, into the light, and Tatara felt his heart turn to ice in his chest as its lips pulled back to bare its teeth. He watched helplessly as Kagutsu prowled towards him, then wound itself up to spring at Tatara, glad to accept the prey that was walking so unsuspectingly into its jaws.

The crack of a gunshot shattered the quiet, and the wolf staggered, but didn’t fall- Mizuomi’s bullet had found Kagutsu’s haunch, and its blood trickled onto the gravel, but the wound wasn’t a lethal one. A whimper escaped its teeth as it turned to bite at the source of the pain, but its distraction was only momentary- when its gaze returned to Tatara, it was growling, the sound deep and gruff with rage, and the fur on his neck stood on end. The buckshot embedded in its hide seemed to have only served to piss it off, and once again, it tensed to lunge at the helpless boy.

A furious roar sounded suddenly from behind Tatara, and he saw Kagutsu’s ears twitch ever so briefly backwards in fear before, in a flash of red fur, another huge wolf collided with him, knocking him sideways. It scrambled to its feet to defend itself from the next attack from the newcomer, who was snarling with rage, snapping and clawing at its opponent viciously to draw Kagutsu’s attention away from Tatara.

Tatara stumbled backwards in surprise at Mikoto’s appearance, trying to distance himself from the fight, but his foot caught on a loose rock and he toppled over onto the gravel, biting his lip to hold back a cry of pain as the fall jostled his broken arm. From the ground, he watched the battle with wide eyes, his heartbeat thundering in his ears as the beasts went for one another. Murderous snarls and growls of pain and fury rose from the a blur of flying claws and flashing teeth, and every whimper and yelp constricted Tatara’s chest with the fear that the one crying was Mikoto, that Mikoto was the one losing, but it was impossible to keep track of who was who. He wanted desperately to do something to help him, but he was powerless; even without considering the fact he was completely unarmed, in the chaos of the battle the two beasts seemed to blur into one. Mizuomi seemed to be facing the same dilemma; from the window, Tatara heard Izumo shout: “Don’t shoot! You might hit Mikoto!”

The wolves were up on their rear paws now, towering high above the ground as they clawed at one another. One managed to close its jaws around the other’s ear, and a horrific yowl of pain erupted from the victim’s throat as the first wolf shook its head, tearing at the flesh between its teeth. In turn, the one whose ear had been seized raked its claws across the shoulder of its opponent in an attempt to free itself, and the pair sprang apart, circling each other with the deadly snarls rumbling in their throats, both of them wounded but neither allowing the pain to show, even as their blood poured through their fur and onto the dust. There wasn’t an ounce of mercy between them; the roars that rang out from the battle dripped with an almost supernatural deadly rage that made the hairs on the back of Tatara’s neck stand on end as the sound shook the air in his lungs. There was no question that whoever fell first was dead.

After a drawn-out moment of tension, the one with the torn ear finally lunged forwards, and the other sidestepped it, turning to attack from the side and knocking it out of the air mid-pounce. The first wolf was thrown down onto its side and winded as it hit the ground, leaving it coughing as it tried to get back onto its feet. But it wasn’t quick enough; almost immediately, it found itself pinned to the gravel by its opponent. It struggled briefly to escape, but as the beast on top of it sunk its teeth into the meat of its neck, it was forced to roll onto its back to free itself from the grip of the other’s jaws and try and kick off its attacker. Their paws strained against one another’s chests in a desperate attempt to keep the snapping fangs away from their throats, but the one on its back was weakening as the wolf on top of it tore furiously at its exposed belly with its claws. It writhed frantically to struggle free, but it couldn’t throw off the weight of the beast pinning it down. Its limbs were shaking, slipping. As the wolf on top of it went for its jugular, it twisted suddenly, so all its opponent managed to sink its teeth into was the scruff of its neck, then in the confusion, it took its chance to kick out at its attacker and shake itself free. It scrambled forward, making a break for the treeline and towards safety, but the beast that had gained the upper hand was too quick for it. It pounced, its claws catching on the retreating wolf’s hindquarters and knocking it off balance, and as the fleeing beast skittered to steady itself, the other caught its back limb in its jaws and pulled it to the ground. An instant later, the retreating wolf was on its back once more, and its pursuer was on top of it, its jaws closed around its throat. The subdued wolf struggled viciously, writhing and clawing at its attacker in a desperate final plea for its life, but it couldn’t free itself from the death grip it found itself in.

The final moments were horrifying- the panicked and desperate yelps became slowly more hoarse, quieter, breathless, as the creature struggled to suck in air through its crushed windpipe. Eventually, its writhing weakened to twitching, and then it fell still, and silent. The victorious wolf finally released it and turned away, fixing its eyes immediately on Tatara, who was still lying on the driveway, too shocked to move. It limped slowly towards him, its muzzle soaked in blood. Tatara’s heartbeat was racing so quickly that it was making his head swim, almost as though it was trying to fit a lifetime of beats into its final minutes.

“Mikoto…?” Tatara croaked, acutely and agonisingly aware that if it wasn’t him, they really _would_ be his last minutes. But even worse than that was the knowledge that, if this wasn’t Mikoto, then Mikoto was the corpse lying in the dirt by his driveway, Mikoto was the one who he’d just listened to suffocating, crying out in agony as he died. And if that was the case, then Tatara would be glad of a swift end, just so he didn’t have to live with that knowledge for very long.

The wolf gave him no hints to its identity as it approached; its expression was blank, and its movements were heavy with pain and exhaustion. The time it took him to limp over drew on for what felt like forever. Tatara couldn’t draw his eyes away from the creature’s, searching them for the spark of humanity that he recognised, praying he’d see the flash of recognition.

When the wolf reached him, Tatara realised he’d been holding his breath. It stopped in front of him for a moment, looking at him, as if deciding what he wanted to do, and Tatara dared to hope that this wasn’t the look of a killer deciding what to do with its prey. It didn’t seem aggressive enough, didn’t seem proud in its victory. Or perhaps that was just because its human mind was lost, and it couldn’t feel those emotions. But Tatara prayed it was the former.

“Mikoto?” He asked again, louder this time, as though demanding an answer.

The wolf responded by collapsing beside him, licking his cheek softly as Tatara let out a giggle of pure relief, reaching up to run his fingers through the fur of Mikoto’s neck as he caught his breath beside him.

“I was so worried…”

Mikoto let out a huff, as if to say _me too._

Their reunion was interrupted by Izumo bursting out of the back door of the bar, with his uncle hot on his heels. He ran over to the pair lying on the gravel and knelt beside them.

“You two don’t half frighten the life outta me…” he chided, but the relief was heavy in his voice.

Tatara offered him a meekly repentant smile in return.

“C’mon, get inside; those wounds need looking at, and Totsuka you need getting to a hospital, that arm-…”

“I’ll go after sunrise.”

“There’s no need for ya to suffer unnecessarily-…”

“There’s no way they’ll let a big, bloodied wolf into the emergency room, and I’m not leaving him.”

Mikoto grunted in discontent at the refusal, and Izumo sighed, but it was clear by the tone of Tatara’s voice he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“…Alright, fine. But you still oughta come inside outta the cold so I can at least get a look until then.”

Tatara nodded, sitting up slowly, and Izumo helped him to his feet as Mikoto got unsteadily to his own and staggered towards the house. Meanwhile, Izumo turned to see where his uncle had gotten to- Mizuomi had crossed the driveway, weapon still in hand, and was standing by the corpse of Kagutsu, staring at it with an odd, blank expression in his eyes.

“Uncle?”

“…I have to make sure it’s really dead,” he said quietly.

Izumo gave a small nod, then lay his hand on Tatara’s shoulder to turn him away from the sight of Mizuomi pressing the barrel of his shotgun against the dead wolf’s skull and pulling the trigger.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter can also be found on [Tumblr](http://mistleto-3.tumblr.com/post/158625969624/crying-for-the-moon-part-22).

Once he’d gotten them inside, Izumo immediately set about worrying over his friends’ injuries. After spending a moment rummaging through the medicine cabinet, he pressed a bottle of pain pills into Tatara’s hand, insisting he take them if he wouldn’t go to the hospital. As soon as he was satisfied Tatara had swallowed the pills, he then turned his attention to flushing out Mikoto’s wounds with antiseptic. Mikoto kept stubbornly quiet as Izumo cleaned him up, but the saline that ran onto the kitchen tiles was bright red, and his fur was caked with blood. Tatara could see the tension in his jaw, and he sat beside him, stroking the top of his head to comfort him.

Mizuomi came into the kitchen shortly after he’d come back inside, having changed his blood-splattered clothes and, judging by the dampness of his hair, splashed his face with water. At first, he didn’t speak, wordlessly making a mug of tea for each of the humans in the room and pouring a bowl of water for Mikoto. Then, he took a seat on one of the kitchen stools, and without making eye contact with any of the boys, he let out a heavy sigh and said:

“I think I owe you all the whole story.”

The silence that followed was pregnant as Mizuomi sighed once more, his gaze flickering upwards to the ceiling as he appeared to be deciding where to begin.

“Mikoto. I presume you know that that was Kagutsu, the wolf that bit you and killed my brother and sister in law.”

Mikoto inclined his head slightly.

“He’s also the werewolf I mentioned before, when I told you about your mother. Her ‘true love,’ supposedly.”

At the look of confusion on Izumo and Tatara’s faces, Mizuomi was prompted to explain: “A werewolf doesn’t normally remember who they are in wolf form, so when Kagutsu met Mikoto’s mother and started remembering himself, we did some research into it, and there were whispers and stories about a werewolf finding their true love and remembering their identity in their presence. We figured that was what happened with her and Kagutsu, and now you two,” he said, nodding towards Tatara and Mikoto.

“True love…?” Tatara repeated, his cheeks flushing pink as he processed the information, then buried his face in the fur of Mikoto’s neck bashfully. Mikoto let out a quiet huff that sounded like a laugh.

“Wait a sec, how could Kagutsu’ve been her true love? You said earlier he tried to _kill her baby_? What kinda rotten true love is that?” Izumo pointed out.

Mikoto stiffened at this, giving Mizuomi a questioning look.

“Just cause he was evil didn’t mean he couldn’t love. He _did_ love her, in a sort of convoluted way. He showed it by being a jealous bastard, and he treated her awfully, but he loved her.”

“What about her?” Tatara asked. “How could she love someone like that?”

“She was convinced she could change him. She was the kind of person who’d give anyone the benefit of the doubt; she had so much faith in the good in people that she couldn’t see there wasn’t any in Kagutsu. He was kind to her sometimes, and he made her laugh, so she looked past the way he treated her the rest of the time.”

“Then why’d old man Suoh disinherit her if she was a victim?” Izumo asked.

“He didn’t. That’s just the story he went with to protect you kids from the truth. He didn’t disown her; she died when Mikoto was about a month old,” Mizuomi explained.

Tatara felt Mikoto’s head drop slightly beside him.

“Your grandfather couldn’t bear to talk about her. It was too painful for him; he felt like he failed in protecting her, like if he’d tried harder then maybe she’d still be alive. I feel the same way, but no matter what anyone said to her, she refused to stop looking for the good in him.”

“So what happened to her?” Tatara asked.

“She got pregnant, and Kagutsu was… angry is an understatement. He couldn’t stand the idea of sharing her. But she was who she was, and the moment she found out she was going to have a baby she was completely infatuated with it; she was over the moon. He pressed her for months to get an abortion, but she refused. After her first scan, he pushed her down the stairs. Thankfully she wasn’t badly hurt and she didn’t miscarry, and we hoped after that she’d see what an asshole he was, but no matter what I said to her, or what her father said to her, she was convinced that once he saw the baby, he would love it.”

“And he didn’t?” Tatara asked, but it was more a statement than a question.

“Of course not. He just hated Mikoto even more once he was born, hated that his mother was too busy recovering from childbirth and caring for the kid to pay much attention to him.”

“And then he tried to kill Mikoto?” Izumo prompted. At the question, Mikoto looked up at Izumo, then turned to Mizuomi.

“Yeah… First full moon after Mikoto was born, Kagutsu pretended to lose control of himself and went for him, but she got between them. He scratched her up pretty bad, but she escaped with her son and came to me- she didn’t want to go to her father because she knew he’d never let her go back, and she was determined she could talk some sense into Kagutsu. She was so convinced it was an accident, but I made her promise me that she would leave him if she couldn’t calm him down, or if he hurt her- she was willing to risk her own safety, but when I pointed out that Kagutsu was a danger to her son, she agreed. So she left Mikoto with me and went back to him…” Mizuomi trailed off at that point, and took a moment to steady himself, taking a deep breath before continuing: “We can’t be completely sure what happened, but presumably, he failed to see sense, so she told him she was leaving him, and he killed her in a fit of rage.

“I think he always held a grudge against us, though. Blamed everyone but himself for her death. He used to come around here sometimes in his human form and try to pick fights, but old man Suoh bought a gun and told him that if he saw him around here again, he’d take appropriate steps to protect his grandson, and I never saw him in human form after that.”

“Just in human form?” Tatara asked.

“Something drew him here in wolf form. I don’t know how much of his memories he retained on full moons, but he used to come here a lot and sniff around. We thought he didn’t remember anything though; he didn’t seem to.”

“Why’d he attack that night then, when he bit Mikoto?” Izumo said, his brow furrowing.

“I don’t know; I wasn’t there. All I know is that he broke down the door of the bar and found your parents sleeping, and then he broke into the Suohs’ house and went for Mikoto, but his grandfather grabbed a meat cleaver from the kitchen and managed to drive him out of the house before he could do too much damage. It was too late though, and Mikoto got bitten.”

“Why did he attack Izumo’s parents? What did they have to do with it?” Tatara asked.

“They had nothing to do with it; they didn’t even know about werewolves. I suppose Kagutsu just thought my brother was me; we looked quite similar, and he wanted his revenge against me for all the time I spent trying to convince Mikoto’s mother to leave him, and for protecting her son from him. He’d always hated me; he was so possessive of her. I grew up with her, we were friends since we were kids, and it was no secret that her dad was hoping I’d marry her. I suppose it was no secret I wanted to either. At first Kagutsu just hated that another guy her age lived next door to her, and he used to interrogate her every time he caught her speaking to me. It only got worse when he figured out I was in love with her. I suppose he blames me for the fact her lost her. My brother and his wife were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Tatara’s expression softened, and he gave Mizuomi a sympathetic look; his heart ached at the thought of what he must have been through, watching the woman he loved choose a man who hurt her, and then bearing the blame for the death of his siblings.

“It wasn’t your fault…” Tatara said softly. “You were just trying to protect your friend. The things Kagutsu did aren’t on you.”

Mizuomi sighed, pausing for a moment, then he changed the subject uncomfortably. “After that first attack, Mizuomi came back more often; I presume he was trying to finish the job on Mikoto, but of course they were on level footing now because Mikoto was transforming too. Old man Suoh beefed up the locks so Kagutsu couldn’t get into the house, so he used to just loiter outside all night. But I guess he saw me one night and realised I wasn’t dead and he tried to get into the bar, so I shot at him. I don’t think I did an awful lot of damage, but it deterred him. I think the sound spooked Mikoto though, and he managed to escape his house and he and Kagutsu ended up fighting, but Kagutsu was already wounded so he ran off with his tail between his legs and I hadn’t seen him come back since- I think he was too afraid that Mikoto would kill him if he returned. Mikoto’s younger, and from what I can tell, stronger. Kagutsu didn’t seem to like his odds.”

“Is that fight why you’ve got all those scars?” Tatara asked, turning to Mikoto, who shrugged.

“I presume so,” Mizuomi replied. “I don’t remember him getting into any other big fights.”

“But if Kagutsu was afraid he’d get his ass kicked, why’d he come back tonight?” Izumo asked.

“The howl…” Tatara said. “Mikoto howled when he was on his way to my house. Maybe he heard and knew Mikoto wasn’t here, so he was safe to finish off Mizuomi without having to worry about him?”

“It’s possible,” Mizuomi replied.

“We saw pawprints last month, by the edge of the woods when we came back from camping. Mikoto howled that night too; I bet he heard Mikoto was away from the house and he came to sniff around,” Tatara said.

Mizuomi nodded in concurrence, then dropped his gaze with a sigh. “I’m sorry for not telling you any of this earlier. Your grandfather wanted to protect you from all of this; he didn’t think you needed to know, and he couldn’t bear to talk about your mother,” he said, looking at Mikoto. “And even after he died… I couldn’t bring myself to tell you. I was ashamed; I always think that maybe if I’d done more for your mother, she might still be alive.”

Izumo sighed, walking over to his uncle to rest a hand on his shoulder. “The only person to blame for all this is Kagutsu. He killed her, not you. Ya can’t blame yourself.”

Whether or not Mizuomi had taken this to heart wasn’t clear. “And I’m sorry for not looking after you like I should have. Both of you,” he continued, glancing from Izumo to Mikoto. “I promised to keep an eye on you after your grandfather passed away, but… you’ve got her look about you. I felt so guilty every time I saw you; the older you got, the more you looked like her. You shouldn’t have had to grow up without your mother. And Izumo, your dad would be so proud of the man you’ve grown up to be…” His voice cracked in his throat and he trailed off as his nephew hugged him tightly.

Mizuomi took a deep breath to steady himself, clapping Izumo on the shoulder gratefully as he drew away, then he reached for his wallet in his pocket. From behind one of Izumo’s school photographs, he pulled out another, slightly faded polaroid and handed it to Tatara.

“It’s from before she met Kagutsu,” he explained as Tatara showed the picture to Mikoto. It depicted what was clearly a much younger Mizuomi, perhaps in his late teens, with his arm around the shoulders of a beautiful young lady with waist length red hair and a carefree smile. The resemblance between her and her son was uncanny- they had the same cheekbones, same hairline, same nose, same arch to their brow.

“She was beautiful,” Tatara said with a faint smile.

“She would have loved you,” Mizuomi replied, looking at Tatara. “Your personality reminds me a lot of her.” Then he turned to Mikoto. “I have some other photos of her, one from the day you were born, of you both in the hospital. I’ll get them down from the attic sometime.”

Mikoto gave a grateful nod.

“I hate ta be a mood killer, but what are we gonna do about the scumbags who showed up at Totsuka’s place?” Izumo said. “Someone’s gonna find ‘em eventually, and the one you said got knocked out might wake up anytime.”

“Kagutsu won’t turn back human now he’s dead, will he?” Tatara asked.

“I don’t see how he could,” Mizuomi replied.

“Right… When Mikoto is human again, I’ll call the police, tell them what happened with the debt collectors. They broke my arm, they were going to kidnap me, and then a dog attacked them. The guy who’s still alive will say the same thing, if he remembers, and so will my dad if he was watching. I’ll say I ran away while the dog was busy with the other two, and I came here for safety, but the dog followed me and attacked Mikoto- that’ll explain his injuries. And you shot the dog to protect us. Case closed,” Tatara explained.

“For someone who seems so sweet an’ innocent, ya can be pretty crafty when it comes down to it,” Izumo remarked.

“What if they ask why you didn’t call sooner? Surely the police would be suspicious?” Mizuomi said.

Tatara paused, chewing his lip in thought.

“You should call them now. We’ll say Mikoto was attacked, and he managed to break free and run off but we don’t know where he got to, and I’ll bring him to the hospital once he’s human again,” Mizuomi continued.

“I don’t want to leave him…”

Mikoto nudged his side with his snout, as if to encourage him to go.

“It’ll only be a few hours,” Izumo said.

“Will you remember yourself without me?”

Mikoto nodded, then tugged gently at Tatara’s jacket, as though he was trying to pull it off.

“Huh? You want this?”

He nodded once more, then pointedly pressed his nose to the fabric and inhaled deeply.

“Smell…? The smell of it helps you remember?”

Another nod.

“Is that how you remembered yourself earlier, when I wasn’t there?”

Mikoto inclined his head again, and Tatara’s expression softened in response. He pressed a kiss to the top of Mikoto’s head, then removed his jacket, careful not to jostle his injured arm, and laid the garment over his paws.

“Alright… fine, I’ll go to the hospital.”

Izumo went with Mikoto back to the Suoh home to keep him company while they waited for sunrise, and the group agreed that they’d say Izumo went looking for Mikoto after he’d gone missing if the police asked his whereabouts. Then, Tatara took a deep breath and made the call, relaying his story to the operator, playing up his distress as he spoke to the woman on the phone. Within twenty minutes, a pair of police cars and a paramedic pulled up outside the building, and Tatara repeated his story as the medic assessed his injury. Tatara asked if they’d heard anything from his father, and the policeman questioning him said some officers had been dispatched to his home, and they’d update him when they had some news.

The next few hours passed in a blur- it had begun to drizzle with rain a short while after the police had arrived, and the ride to the hospital seemed almost dreamlike as Tatara watched the raindrops trickle down the window of the paramedic’s car. The pain and the exhaustion were finally beginning to catch up with him as the last of the adrenaline drained from his system, and the medication he was given when they arrived at the hospital only served to make him even more drowsy. The doctors said his break was quite severe, and he’d need surgery to ensure it healed correctly, but Tatara found himself drifting in and out of consciousness as he waited in the emergency room with Mizuomi for an operating theatre to become available.

Thankfully, it had only been an hour or so since they arrived at the hospital until Tatara could be taken down to surgery, and he felt a wave of relief as the anaesthetic mask was placed over his face, and he could finally let sleep take him.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter can also be found on [Tumblr.](http://mistleto-3.tumblr.com/post/158740937829/crying-for-the-moon-part-23-finale)

When Tatara awoke, it took him a moment to orient himself- the bright lights and white walls of the hospital post-op recovery room didn’t quite come into focus right away. His skull felt as though it was filled with fog; his throat was sore, and there was a dull ache in his arm, which was now encased in a plaster cast. He shook his head, trying to clear the haze that the anaesthesia had left behind, but as the blurriness began to subside, his memories from the night before came slowly and unpleasantly trickling back. His first urge was to look for Mikoto, and surely enough, he was the first thing Tatara set his eyes on, sitting in the chair beside the hospital bed with his palm resting atop Tatara’s good hand. At the sight of his partner stirring, Mikoto seemed to relax, almost imperceptibly, but Tatara recognised the flicker of relief in his expression. Not that Tatara could dwell on that for long, though, because it was impossible not to notice the injuries etched across almost every inch of visible skin. Mikoto was covered in bruises- almost as much of his skin was stained purple as wasn’t, and there didn’t seem to be a part of his body that wasn’t either wrapped in bandages or covered by gauze and medical tape and band aids. A deep gash on his forehead had been closed by a set of butterfly stitches.

“Mikoto… how are you feeling?” Tatara asked groggily.

“I should be asking you.”

“My arm hurts less, but maybe that’s just the painkillers talking. So how are you feeling?” he persisted.

“Fine. Doctors patched me up, said no permanent damage. Gotta come back in a week to get the stitches out, and take some meds for two so I don’t get an infection.”

Tatara nodded, squeezing his hand. “Good… as long as you’re okay.”

Mikoto pressed a kiss to his forehead, and Tatara tilted his head up to catch his lips with his own. But as he did so, the sound of a throat being cleared to his other side interrupted them, startling Tatara, and he turned to see his father sitting beside his bed. His eyelids were puffy and red, and his face was drawn with fatigue, but he seemed otherwise unhurt.

“Daddy? Are you okay?”

“Fine, fine. Tatara… I’m so sorry…”

“It’s okay…” Tatara tried to interrupt, but his father cut him off.

“No, it’s not. You got hurt, and it’s my fault…” His voice wavered, and he took a moment to gather himself. “I spoke with Suoh while you were asleep; he’s a good lad. He’ll take good care of you.  Anyway, he… he said he found a rehab facility, and he’s going to pay for my treatment, and you can stay with him while I’m away.”

Tatara turned to Mikoto in surprise, then looked back to his father.

“Daddy…”

“It’s for the best. I just wish it hadn’t come to this before I got help… I’m sorry for not coming to you when they were outside; I didn’t know what to do…”

“It’s okay,” Tatara interrupted. “There probably isn’t a lot you could have done anyway. It would have just ended with both of us getting hurt.”

“I spoke to the police, but there wasn’t much I could tell them; I wasn’t at the window so I didn’t see much. By the sounds of it, the whole incident was open and shut- the debt collector who got knocked out told the same story as you, and the dog who attacked them is dead.”

“What happened to the debt collectors?”

“One of them was dead on arrival, the other one was still out cold when the ambulance got there. They said he was badly hurt but he’ll recover, but they couldn’t tell me any more than that because I’m not family.”

Tatara nodded slowly, and there was a moment of uncomfortable silence.  

“I’m going to head home and pack my things now I’ve seen you’re okay; I’ll leave you two to it. They said you should be able to go home today, so I’ll probably see you later.”

“Okay, I’ll see you later,” Tatara replied, hugging his father with his good arm and waving to him as he left the room. When the door swung close, he turned his attention back to Mikoto.

“Thank you, for what you’re doing for my dad.”

Mikoto merely shrugged, as if it was the obvious thing to do, but something about his manner struck Tatara as off- he seemed stiff, and his face was gaunt.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Like I said, no permanent injuries.”

“You know that’s not what I mean,” Tatara gave him a pointed look.

“…Are you not scared?”

“Of what?”

“Me.”

Tatara’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Of course not; why would you think that?”

“You watched me kill two people last night.”

“Oh, Mikoto…” Tatara reached for his hand and pulled on it gently, and Mikoto obediently climbed onto the bed beside him and cuddled up to Tatara’s side.  “You did it to protect us. The debt collector would have kidnapped me and done God knows what else until my dad could scrape together the money to pay my ransom, and Kagutsu would have happily killed you and Mizuomi if he’d gotten the chance, and probably Izumo and I too for good measure. You saved my life more than once.”

“I didn’t need to kill the debt collector. If I hadn’t bitten him…”

“Then he’d have lived to kidnap innocent kids another day. He’s off the streets; isn’t that a good thing?”

Mikoto didn’t respond.

“It’s okay if it takes you a while to come to terms with what happened. It’s a lot to process, so take your time. But please don’t ever think of yourself as a murderer, or someone I should be afraid of. You probably saved four lives tonight; why would I stop loving you for doing the right thing, for protecting your own? You’re not the villain here. You’re my true love, remember?”

At that last sentence, the smallest flicker of a smile crossed Mikoto’s lips, barely perceptible.

“…Did you know about that? What Mizuomi said about a werewolf’s true love being the only one that can control them?” Tatara asked.

Mikoto inclined his head slightly.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Seemed a bit heavy. Didn’t want to frighten you off.”

Tatara chuckled. “If you turning into a wolf didn’t frighten me off, I don’t know why you thought that would.”

“Fair point.”

Tatara subtly tightened his grip on Mikoto’s hand, meeting his eyes as his expression became more serious. “I’ll never be afraid of you, okay? You’re my true love,” he repeated.

“Didn’t stop Kagutsu.” Mikoto avoided Tatara’s eye contact as he spoke, and Tatara felt a sting of sympathy. Even after everything his own father had done, Tatara knew he was fundamentally kind-hearted, if a little misguided. Mikoto on the other hand… he couldn’t imagine having to process the knowledge of the crimes committed by his own flesh and blood.

“You aren’t your father, Mikoto. Just because you have his DNA doesn’t mean anything; I’m not blood related to my dad, but he’s no less my dad. Kagutsu might have the same blood as you, but that doesn’t make him your family. You’re nothing like him; I know you’d never hurt me, or anyone else, unless it was the only way to protect the people you love.”

Mikoto nodded slowly, and while he didn’t say anything, the way he squeezed Tatara’s hand gratefully suggested he’d at least taken some small measure of comfort from the speech, so Tatara changed the subject, hoping to save him having to dwell on the matter for the time being.

“How did you know where to find me anyway? If you hadn’t gotten there when you did…”

“I’d been on my way home, heard you on the phone with Mizuomi after you got out the cab. When you mentioned the wolf, it couldn’t’ve been anyone but Kagutsu, so I followed you. Wish I coulda gotten there faster, but I was limping.”

“It’s okay. Thank you.”

Mikoto nodded. “…I sent an email to the loan sharks. Anonymously. Said if they ever did what they did to you to anyone again, the guy who ended up dead last night wouldn’t be the last. They shouldn’t bother you anymore.”

“You didn’t have to…”

“Can’t risk you getting hurt again,” Mikoto interrupted, and Tatara nodded.

“Alright, thank you,” Tatara said, leaning in to kiss him once more.

It was at that point that the door opened and a nurse came into the room, and Tatara broke the kiss abruptly, his cheeks reddening, but the she didn’t seem perturbed by the affection. As Mikoto shifted off the bed, the nurse was followed in by Tatara’s surgeon, who walked with a sort of sunny spring in her step.

“Ah, you’re awake. How are you feeling?” she asked, marching over to the monitors beside the bed to check his stats against the chart she had pinned to the clipboard in her hand.

“A little groggy,” Tatara replied.

“That’s perfectly normal; it should pass before long, but do let us know if you feel nauseous at all and we can give you something to take the edge off. What about pain?”

“My arm is a little sore, but it’s a lot better than it was.”

“Good, that’s good,” she replied with a smile, then proceeded with her post-op checks, and went through with him how the surgery went, what he could expect from the recovery process, and how to care for himself until the cast could come off in a couple months’ time. At the end of the short lecture, she grinned once more, tapping her heels against the linoleum.

“Well, if you don’t have any more questions, you’re free to go home when you’re ready.”

“That’s great, thank you for your help.”

The surgeon nodded politely and excused herself with the nurse following behind her, and as they left, Tatara let out a deep sigh of relief- somehow being discharged felt like it finally brought the events of the night before to their conclusion, and whatever it was that had been constricting his chest seemed to fall away; he felt as though he could breathe properly for the first time since his father had called him yesterday afternoon. Right now, he just wanted to sleep, and judging by the deep purple shadows beneath Mikoto’s eyes, he wasn’t the only one- Tatara didn’t imagine Mikoto had gotten any rest since yesterday morning.

He wasted no time in changing out of his hospital gown and into the clean clothes that Izumo had brought with him- the Kusanagis had been lingering in the corridor outside Tatara’s room whilst they waited for him to wake up- the room he’d been recovering in was too small for more than one or two visitors. As Mikoto and Tatara emerged, Izumo’s face lit up with a relieved smile, but there was a drawn look about him that betrayed that he was just as exhausted as everyone else. He and his uncle got their feet, and Izumo clapped Mikoto gently on the upper arm before turning to Tatara.

“Feelin’ alright?”

“Tired,” Tatara replied with a meek smile. “But a lot better.”

“Aren’t we all? C’mon, let’s get you two home,” Izumo offered, and Tatara nodded in relief as the four of them turned and headed towards the exit.

As Tatara felt Mikoto’s fingers twine with his own from beside him, the absurdity of everything caught up with him all at once. It almost didn’t seem real; he felt as though he was looking at himself from afar, from through a pane of glass. It had been the better part of a year since he’d been drawn to take that second look at Mikoto, since he’d started to worry that his interest in him hadn’t inevitably ebbed like it always did, like a wave drawing back across the sand. It almost felt odd to think that there was a time he _wanted_ to move on, wanted to suppress those first flutters of a crush he felt stirring in the pit of his stomach. But now, after everything he’d discovered, everything he’d seen, everything he’d felt, after he’d stared a monster in the face and been unafraid, after Mikoto had been willing to _kill_ to save his life… It was almost unthinkable to look back on a time when Mikoto had been just another face in the crowd. Now, it was like he held a piece of him; something had grown between them and taken root, weaving itself into his very flesh, reaching all the way down to his core, until it was impossible to separate it from his own being. He almost didn’t remember what life was like without Mikoto; he couldn’t imagine being able to cope not knowing him now. He hadn’t even dared to consider the idea that Mikoto might not have come out of last night alive- it was too unbearable to even entertain. Even just the warmth of his palm, the pressure of his calloused fingers slotting perfectly between his own, the idea he could have lost that was…

“Mikoto?” Tatara said quietly as the pair followed the Kusanagis towards the exit of the hospital.

“Mm?”

“Don’t ever leave me, okay?”

“Promise. You’re my true love, remember?” he repeated Tatara’s words with a flicker of a smirk.

Despite everything, Tatara couldn’t resist letting a grin spread across his lips. The words “true love” still sounded foreign to him, the way he imagined winning the lottery feels- a sort of detached sense of elation, and the struggle to wrap your head around the idea that this is really _happening_. But at the same time, those words in Mikoto’s gruff voice just sounded so _right_.

As they stepped out into the car park and into the weak sunlight of the early spring morning, their fingers still tangled as the pad of Mikoto’s thumb traced across Tatara’s knuckles, Tatara was instilled with an odd sense of tranquillity. He didn’t know why, but he had a feeling that no matter what, as long as he had Mikoto beside him, somehow everything would always turn out okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally finished! I can't really believe it's over tbh; this fic has been my baby for months, and I kinda wanna tear up a little knowing I've finally finished it!
> 
> I don't think I've ever been quite this proud of something I've created, and that comes down to the incredible response I received from everyone who read it. The kudos and the comments you guys left fuelled me through this thing, and it was always a delight to see that I'd had a new comment on this fic. Thank you so much from the bottom of my heart for all of your support through this fic, it's been an absolute joy to write and share with all of you. 
> 
> I hope to see you guys again for the sequel!


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